Alphabet
by dreamerchaos
Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in the G1/IDW universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order. Various pairings
1. Chapter 1

Title: SoundwavexPerceptor Drabbles  
Author: dreamerchaos  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.

Rating: G all the way to Mature.

Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in the G1/IDW universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

******

**A is for Assessment**

"You Will Either Bend, Autobot." Soundwave pinched the microscope's chin between thumb and forefinger, bending forward until the prisoner's breath brushed the plating of his face guard. "Or You Will _Break_."

Perceptor planted the struts of his shoulder blades against the wall, arching back, with no avail, to escape the encroaching fingers sliding along his temple. "N-no-" The tremble of voice, either in plea or refusal, lost when the telepath establishes the link. Causing the microscope to arch violently as his CPU is invaded.

**  
B is for Bravery**

It is quite a feat, to halt the Decepticon telepath in his path. One hand wielding a blaster, the other raised to deliver a crushing blow from a balled fist.

The microscope throws himself between the Decepticon and his red and gold opponent, standing with his arms flung wide open to shield the fallen and damaged Autobot Communications Officer. Blaster grimaced, arm wrapped around the sparking, jagged wound in his abdomen. "P-perceptor… g-get out of the…_the way_." Blaster pleads with the scientist to remove himself from harms way.

Noticeably shaking with fear and dread, Perceptor whips his head left and right in silent rebuke. Arms spread open, as if ready to embrace the cold, methodical fury of the Decepticon a mere ten feet away.

**  
C is for Craving**

He does not really know this strange mech, Perceptor realizes. Except for the occasional passing by within the vast corridors or streets, the scientist catches a glimpse of the sapphire blue mech from a distance, whether the visored mech wanders alone or silently beside the vibrant, lavender Senator Ratbat.

There are only one or two instances when their glances meet. Amidst the whispers of a civil war and citizens disappearing within the night cycle, the scientist scurries between his labs and apartment unit, never mind catching the heated conversations about the gangs of mechs hitting the streets bearing the crude title of 'Decepticons'.

It is to his immense surprise when a hand swallows a startled cry when he has just stepped into his apartment unit after punching in his entry code. A larger frame splayed against his back, bodily forcing him into his domicile, the door sliding shut to shield his late attempt to struggle for freedom; muffling a sharp shout of distress.

"_You!" _Perceptor gasps, once freed, spun around, shoved flat against the wall. Wrists snapped up within the unbending grip of his assailant's.

Chassis to chassis, hands trapped above his shoulders, Perceptor shudders at the press of cool lips tickling down his cheek. The words, entreaties, or threats unspoken. Left only with the silent promise as denta bit hard, just so, into the arc of his neck and jaw, inciting a shudder and tumble of unregistered static from his prey.

**  
D is for Duty**

"It is my sworn duty!" The hand aiming the blaster at Soundwave's chassis shudders, unable to keep his aim straight. "Decepticon. You are hereby under arrest. By the authority of the Autobot edict for the capture and imprisonment of war criminals."

The battle mask cannot disguise the telepath's small amount of humor at the microscope's proclamation. Boldly, the Decepticon takes one, then two steps forward.

"Stop." Perceptor warns, taking a step back in response to the mech's brazen move.

Soundwave matches each retreat with a step of his own.

"_Halt! _Not one step closer or..or I'll shoot!" The blaster hardly remains in the shaken mech's grip, wrist and fingers rattling together as he trembles. Duty and doubt warring.

"No." Soundwave disregards the Autobot's commands to halt. Sliding a hand past the wrist, wrapping around the elbow; folding the arm straight against the microscope's side, until the blaster falls from a limp grip, "You Will Not Shoot."

**  
E is for Entertainment**

Perceptor has never been to a club. Coaxed and wheedled by a fellow student, he reluctantly follows as they lead him down the unlit alleyways into one of the more infamous clubs where the best dancers, musicians, and partygoers meet. Mechs and femmes so beautiful they rivaled the stars gathered, dancing intimately close together, awing those who wished they possessed a fraction of their grace or charisma.

The harried microscope feels like a timid retro-rabbit among the mech-wolves.

His companions eagerly shove a container of high grade into his twisting, nervous hands. Laughing in good nature as he gags reflexively, tasting the potent liquid for the very first time; pushing another chalice of the noxious drink into his grip when he manages to force the first cup down his cringing throat.

He cannot say whether he enjoys the tumbling feeling within his fuel pumps, too many drinks making his skittish, practically itching beneath the weight of his own dermal plating. His friends are in no better shape, as awkward on their pedes as the microscope.

Perceptor cannot say that he is honestly stunned when he literally falls into the lap of a lone, seated mech. The stranger grunts at the sudden impact of his new 'guest' perched upon his lap. The microscope's optics blinking in innocent surprise, arms wrapped around the blue mech's neck to prevent him from sliding onto his posterior upon the floor.

"Gracious." Perceptor stutters, straddling the mech, "I'm sorry to impose."

"……" The stranger's hands slide upon to rest upon Perceptor's waist, drawing a secret shudder of surprise, then delight from the caress, sensors and plating sensitivity heightened by his overcharged state, "…Apologies: Unnecessary."

**  
F is for Freedom**

It is a simple, yet cherished treasure to have a few joors with his bondmate. Decepticon and Autobot alliance shed for a mere breathe of time together.

Rendezvousing at a distant enclosed valley, sharing the hushing rain of a tall waterfall and gurgling stream; Perceptor sighs in bliss as he stretches back to lie within the embrace. Soundwave's arms encircling from behind, folding the microscope against his chassis, knees and legs walling his smaller mate in closer. Back resting against chest, their bodies hum in tempo, while Perceptor draws idle paths across the folded arms around his waist with the tips of his fingers.

"It's been too long." Perceptor smiles in content, Soundwave nuzzling the side of his helm, the two mechs pressed temple to temple.

The telepath hums in agreement, mask retracting.

Perceptor meets his mate halfway, sharing a kiss of renewal and longing after so much time apart.

**  
G is for Greed**

To Soundwave, it is laughingly easy to steal the microscope from the brig. Swiftly tucking and locking the mech within his quarters, sending the Cassettes out for reconnaissance duty.

Leaving him ample amount of time to acquaint himself with the Autobot prisoner.

The microscope tries to twist away, arms and wrists shackled behind his back. Lying on his side upon the berth, the microscope whines softly, the telepath stretched along his back. One of the Decepticon's hands circling Perceptor's knee, spreading the mech's lower limbs to allow greater access for Soundwave to caress and explore.

Perceptor's helm cants with each thrust, impaled by the telepath's interface spike. Hiding his face against his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge or turn enough to meet the Decepticon's red gaze.

Soundwave groans softly past grinding denta, hand pressing his partner's head back and underneath his chin. His mask screeches in brash, rough contact against the smooth metal of the microscope's neck and audios, cursing in ancient Cybertronian at the warm, suffocating embrace as the microscope's heat and body surrounds him, heating him from the inside and out.

This feeling is…indefinable. All encompassing. Brought upon by Motormaster's loud boasts and crude comments about the latest prisoner, the Stunticon leader pondering aloud whether the microscope would be remotely entertaining when the semi-truck would begin his shift down in the brigs.

The wash of…molten fury…silent and heady…that rushed up the telepath's throat at the Stunticons snickering, further encouraging their leader, caused the Decepticon's fists to tighten and shake beneath the cover of his work console, audios unable to mute the bragging brutes.

Perceptor chokes out several short pleas, the words lost all the while the telepath's hand threads down to slide into the microscope's port, the warm space stretched tight, snug around the two fingers and interface spike. Perceptor groans in distress, and then pleasure, hips and thighs unconsciously rocking against the smooth, plunging invaders.

'_No.'_ No, he would not share with any of them. Not what was his and his alone, _'Never.'_

**  
H is for Hands**

Soundwave tilted his helm, pondering the queer actions of the microscope.

Perceptor smiled at his mate's curious gaze. Laying his hand atop the telepath's, comparing the difference in width and length.

"Your hands are so much larger than mine." The microscope murmured, pressing their palms together, fingers spreading in a mirror image of the other, "My fingers are blunt, and thicker than yours, though. Compared to mine, your hands are graceful and beautiful."

Soundwave clasped one of the microscope's hands between his owns, lifting the appendage and brushing his cheek against the curled fingers. "Assessment: Incorrect. Perceptor: Confident and Competent Mech. Hands Firm And Strong, Like The Mech's Spark."

Perceptor chuckled, raising his other hand to clasp his mate's, "You're such a charmer." He rose onto the tips of his pedes, pressing a kiss to the arch of the mech's nasal ridge. This close, he could detect a rise in heat as the telepath's dermal plating and cheeks heated in embarrassment.

**I is for Interloper**

"The Third, Then, Is He?" Shockwave pondered Soundwave's confirmation. Yellow optic flaring, then narrowing in contemplation of his partner's revelation, "The Final Piece For Our Trine."

"Correct." Soundwave affirmed.

Shockwave folded his arms over a broad chassis, scrutinizing his bondmate. "A Quandary, We Now Have. The Third, An Autobot. Will Not Comply With Our Needs."

"Approval: Not Necessary," Soundwave argued, red visor meeting the lavender mech's, "The Compulsion Will Lead Him To Us. Resistance: Ultimately Futile."

Shockwave looked down from the viewing platform, scrutinizing the small Autobot party in the distance. The two Decepticons hidden from view from within a tall, recessed archway stories above the scorched and twisted metal streets, allowing them to observe the small scout party that had ventured into the abandoned city. The aforementioned mech that they were discussing standing shoulder to shoulder with two Autobot warriors, the more experienced and well-trained soldiers keeping the timid scientist and young medic within a tight grid, out of sight of any sniper scopes.

"Actions Necessary," His blaster hand charging to life with a sharp hum, the larger mech taking a step outside the safety and discretion of the archway.

"Agreed," Soundwave removed his own blaster from subspace, "Before Our Quarry Escapes."

**J is for Joined**

"…sound…wave…?" Perceptor dragged himself closer to his bondmate. The passage long and agonizing, one leg sheared completely away at the hip, the other limb at the knee.

"…" The mech's hand rose, fingers trembling. Resting upon the microscope's cheek as Perceptor winced, levering up enough to lean over his injured mate. Three jagged, twisted cuts stretched across the telepath's chassis, the edges snapping bright yellow and red sparks, popping and hissing in the air. The microscope's mouth and glossa stung from the smell – the _taste_ – of scorched wires and tainted energon. "…'cep..toooorr.." The telepath rasped, fingers slickened with energon, tracing his mate's face.

Around them, the small city continued to crumble down to its very last struts and foundations. The city razed to the ground by an unprecedented clash between the Decepticons and the Autobots. Like many others, the two mechs, trying to seek refuge from the war, caught directly in the middle. The only memory that Perceptor's CPU could recall was the sudden scream of jets shooting overhead, a wide misfire of a cannon, and the skyscrapers tumbling like domino pieces, crashing to the streets while civilians, Decepticons, and Autobots tried to flee for cover.

"It's okay." Perceptor dropped several gentle, reassuring kisses upon his mate's face. Optics burning at the sight of the horrible, wide lacerations decorating Soundwave's cheeks and forehead, "It's going to be all right… Som-someone will find us. They…Someone will help us. You'll see…They'll get a medic and everything will be all right."

As if in answer to his prayers, like a gift from Primus, searchlights suddenly lit the two mechs. Perceptor shielded his optics from the glare, bent over his mate to protect him from the whine of aerial craft engines and blades. Debris flying around them. "Here! Over here!" He cried out for assistance, using his free hand to staunch the flow of energon trickling from Soundwave's neck.

"What is this, then?" The low growl a mixture of amusement and curiosity. A stranger backlit by the bright searchlights, striding confidently towards the injured civilians, the large Cybertronian casually stepping over debris and gray bodies.

Perceptor's optics rose to survey the towering mech looming above him and his mate. Blue gaze widening at the sight of the silver mech, recognizing the large black fusion cannon, but more importantly imprinting the visage of the stenciled purple symbol upon the large mech's chassis.

_Megatron._

"Please…please help us..." Perceptor beseeched the warlord, cradling one of Soundwave's hands against his chassis, their fingers intertwined together, his mate's optics darkening threateningly, signaling emergency stasis.

Megatron's gaze narrowed, searching the microscope. "What could either of **you **possibly offer in order to deign assistance from **me**?"

"I-I'll do anything. Anything…_Please_. Please, Lord Megatron. M-my bondmate…he needs a medic…" Already bowed over his mate, barely able to support his weight due to missing most of his lower limbs, Perceptor was poorly capable of performing a subservient bow low enough in the presence of the warlord. He did try, pouring all of his Spark into the gesture, helm almost touching the Decepticon's pedes.

A faint, but noticeable twitch of the warlord's lips graced the microscope's efforts. Crouching down upon one knee, Megatron kneels above the bowing mech. Hand encircling the back of Perceptor's neck, squeezing long and hard enough to draw a pained whimper.

"You both will have plenty of time and opportunity to prove your usefulness to me." Megatron said with promise.

**K is for Kids**

"He hit me!"

"Shut up! He's lying!"

"Screech! Awk!"

"Ow! That hurt, Laserbeak!"

"_RRRrrrrr!"_

"Huh! You wanna piece of me! Bring it on!"

"ScreeeeK!!"

"Stop ganging up on me!"

"Perceptor! He hit me again!"

**"He's lying, he's lying, he's lying, he's lying-"**

Perceptor sighed, covering his face with a weary palm. In his lap, Frenzy growled at his twin, the red and black Cassette sitting opposite within the cradle of Soundwave's lap. Frenzy rubbing at the sore area on his helm where Rumble had hit him.

Ravage snarled at her brother, curling up against Soundwave' knee, tail swishing in distemper. Laserbeak squawked at all of the Cassettes, perched upon Perceptor's shoulder, pecking at Rumble's hand when he smacked his brother once more.

"There, there." Perceptor soothed the furious Cassette, Frenzy hanging onto his forearm while throwing curses at his twin from the safety of the microscope's lap. Soundwave catches the growling red and black Cassette before he threw himself at his brother and the argument and tussle began anew.

**  
L is for Love**

"The humans have a name for this feeling." Perceptor lays a hand upon his chassis, directly above his Spark.

"Let Humans Keep Their Words." Soundwave wrapped his arms around Perceptor's waist, pulling him in, close and tight, "We Do Not Need Words For _This_." Sealing the pronouncement with a Spark-searing kiss.

**M is for Monster**

"…no…" Perceptor stole several steps back away from the telepath. Hands hovering in front of his face as if to shield his optics from the sight of the mech. "You betrayed…_everything_." The microscope huddled away from the hand reaching towards him in entreaty, beseechingly stretched towards the red and cobalt mech.

"…I-" But Soundwave is cut off.

"You betrayed us…betrayed me…to serve that **tyrant**?!" Perceptor winces at the mere mention of the Decepticon warlord.

"I Had No Choice."

"You had every choice." Perceptor refuted. Hands crossing against his chassis, face torn, bereaved by grief and betrayal, "You chose him. And…" His voice collapsed, shoulders shaking with immeasurable grief, looking at the telepath as if he can't stand the sight of him, "…and you broke my Spark." He managed to sob out the aching truth.

"..N-No." Soundwave pleads, taking a step closer. "No. I…This Isn't Right-"

"**GET AWAY FROM HIM!" **The Autobot Communications Officer is suddenly between them, the barrel of a weapon pointed between the telepath's optics.

Reflexively, Soundwave's hands rise in surrender. With his other hand Blaster yanks Perceptor to safety, holding the microscope tightly against his chassis, teeth bared in a snarl of fury as he growls at the Decepticon.

"Get away from him, Soundwave." Blaster spits out the telepath's name as if it were an acid or a poison. "I won't let you hurt him. Not again."

**  
N is for Never Again**

"You Will Never Lay A Hand On Him." Soundwave derives a sick − and no small amount − of pleasure when ripping the Spark from the Senator's frame; Senator Ratbat retching up a thick gout of energon, optics wide with disbelief at the mech's betrayal, **"Never Again!"**

**  
O is for Opposition**

"Primus, Percy. What do you see in him?"

"I…do not believe you would understand."

"Why him?!" Brawn smashes his fist into the wall beside the energon bars. Glaring at the mech seated within the cell, the microscope's hands hanging between his bent knees. Dull optics meeting the Minibot's, the microscope sitting upon the small berth, wrists shackled in thick stasis cuffs almost too big, "What makes him so wonderful that – that you were willing to betray us and follow that fragger back to Megatron and the _Nemesis_!"

Perceptor clutched his bound hands above his chassis, face squeezing in pain. "You wouldn't understand what it's like for someone to own such a large fragment of your Spark. I am his, just as much as he is mine. That is what makes all of this worth it. Worth _everything_."

**  
P is for Pensive**

"Do you think we could ever go back?"

"When?"

"To…you know. To the way things were. Before the War?"

"…No. Never."

A sad drop in the mech's shoulders. "…Oh."

"But…" The telepath struggles to find the right words, "Perhaps…Something Far Better Awaits. In Time. On Cybertron. Together."

"Yes." Perceptor seizes the hand that reaches for his, giving an answering squeeze in affirmation. "Together."

**  
Q is for Question**

"_Oh, what's this? Oh my…How fascinating!"_

"_Spike, why is this floral specimen making you scratch at your dermal layers?"_

"_Hound…is that…animal…supposed to be raising its tail at us and backing towards us?"_

"_Why is Red Alert so frustrated that I moved several specimens of plants into my lab for further study? The vines look quite lovely..."_

"_Do sharks have eyelids? Carly, I am sorry to say that I have never been close to one in order to prove or disprove that statement. Although I have seen a mecha-shark, but to be quite honest I was more concerned about its __**teeth**__…"_

"_Wheeljack, is the mixture supposed to be that color?"_

"_Umm…Optimus, sir, do you remember that…__**thing**__ that you made me promise not to bring into the Ark? Well…it appears to have suddenly spawned offspring…"_

"_Skyfire, why does Starscream appear to have a sever phobia of snakes? From my readings, most are quite harmless if left alone…"_

"_Will the yellow paint come off? Um…Tracks…maybe you need to speak to Ratchet..There, there, please do not make such a scene. It is no useful endeavor crying over spilt energon, as the saying goes. I am sure Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are regretting their prank. Perhaps your friend Raoul will have some paint in stock…"_

"_Oh! What's this?"_

Soundwave's CPU reeled. The telepath regretting the idle curiosity inciting him into skimming the memory files of his mate's CPU, curious to observe the microscope's ventures during the past few days.

**  
R is for Recharge**

There is nothing quite like finding one's berth after long, consecutive joors of research, tests, more research, rushing Wheeljack to Medical after another explosion, and then more research.

Resting his optics and stiff framework, Perceptor sighs with relief when his helm rests upon the berth.

Waking from recharge with his forehead pressed against a familiar blue chassis, long arms holding the microscope close, shuttered red gaze meeting his when Perceptor raises his face from the warmth cradle of the telepath's grip…

Raising his hand to brush the mech's face guard…

And those arms tightening ever so slightly…

…Priceless.

**  
S is for Sparkling**

The two sparklings squeal and trill, tumbling on the ground by their parents' pedes like two small puppies, the two twins, identical in appearance except that one is in sapphire blue paint and bearing a red visor, and the other painted ruby but his visor a nova blue.

Perceptor gusted out an exhausted breath. "Where do they get their energy?" He bemoans, leaning against his bondmate, burrowing his head into the arch of Soundwave's collar. Scrutinizing their sparklings' play and only stepping in when things got too rough.

Faint chuckles muffled by his mask, Soundwave tucked his mate in close. One hand sliding up and down the healed vertical seam upon the microscope's waist, the fresh mark indicating where Ratchet had to perform emergency surgery to remove the twins before their Sparks extinguished, delivery complicated due to the microscope's framework, chassis not designed to adequately handle the life force of _two_ sparklings all at once.

Frenzy and Rumble can hardly contain their delight at having two younger brothers. Bouncing along the sidelines of the two chirring sparklings, cheering them on, "Get him, Sonar!" Frenzy cheered the small blue sparkling.

"Show him who's boss, Radar!" Rumble pumped his fists into the air, rooting for the red sparkling.

Soundwave carefully nudges Sonar when the play becomes too rough, Radar squealing a sharp peep of pain when his brother accidently twists his arm too far back.

Perceptor moans softly in bliss as Soundwave pulls him down until his helm rests in the telepath's lap, the microscope curling up against the warmth of his mate. Blue optics shuddering as he slowly slips into stasis, "Wake me up when they both pass out and finally fall into recharge." He mumbles tiredly.

**  
T is for Turnabout**

Straddling his lover, Perceptor splays his hands upon the telepath's heaving chassis. Biting his bottom lip until energon threatens to bead the surface. Hips rolling long and slow, head and neck arched back with every deep caress, the sapphire mech's interface piece piercing him to the core.

Soundwave's fingers dig into his palms, pulling futilely at the stasis cuffs that keep him bound flat upon the berth. Hips and thighs jerking upward to meet each downward thrust, inciting a sharp whimper and mewl from his mate.

"Ah, ah." Perceptor tsks breathily in disapproval, noticing his partner's attempts to wriggle free from the cuffs; teasing his mate by flashing the tiny key between their tangled bodies. A shivering smile lighting the microscope's face when he drags the cold, flat side of the key down the mech's chassis to almost brush the connection between their two bodies, "You promised we would take this nice and slow." Perceptor admonished.

The microscope soothes a frustrated growl of displeasure by sliding his mouth against his mate's, glossa entwining. The telepath nipping sharply Perceptor's lips, deriving a halting gasp of surprise, then a whine of pleasure when the sapphire mech bucks hard enough against his mate that stars zip across their optical screens.

Perceptor should not feel so surprised when, several kliks later, somehow, Soundwave manages to slither free of the cuffs, and flip the microscope onto his back upon the berth, determined to make his mate pay for teasing and torturing him.

Determined to drive Perceptor insane with the tease of overload by showing the mech _his_ version of taking it nice and slow.

**  
U is for Ultimatum**

"Perhaps it would not behoove either of us to establish a private comm link so that we can meet and spend more time together? I believe Red Alert can only turn his optics away – and divert unnecessary attention – from Ravage only so many times when she sneaks into the Ark with a datapad held securely within her jaws. It does garner a bit of a reaction."

**  
V is for Victory**

Perceptor is hesitant to concede with his mate's endeavor to improve the scientist's skills in hand-to-hand combat. Or rather lack there of.

It comes to his immense bewilderment during one of their routine spars that somehow Perceptor is straddling the stunned telepath, optics blinking in surprise while sitting comfortably in the sprawled mech's lap.

"Oh…did I do that? Does that mean that I won?" Perceptor grins in delight at managing to win one of their spars, but then yips in alarm as he is flipped over and onto his back, the spar diverting into a sudden wrestling match with Perceptor trying to keep from laughing when they both end up with leaves and twigs in very odd areas between their plating.

**  
W is for Wicked**

"I swear by all that is Primus and holy, if you grab me like that again in front of everyone while on the battlefield simply because you're jealous of Beachcomber and the attention that **supposedly **he is bestowing upon me, I'll upload copies of all of Jazz's and Blaster's favorite songs into the _Nemesis'_ main computers. Yes, **that** one song too that makes you want to tear out your audios!"

**  
X is for X Marks The Spot**

"No! No I absolutely will not! I can not believe what my audios are processing! I refuse to have i-in-intercourse with you in the Ark when Wheeljack and Ratchet are in the next room over…Wait, what are you doing…no, not there!" A low, drawn out whine, hands digging into the side of the work bench, "—Oh _Primus_, **Soundwave**, do that again-"

**  
Y is for Yield**

"Yield, Autobot." The telepath easily twists the scientist's hands behind his back, stifling the few jerks and half-sparked struggles as the microscope attempts to escape.

A swift kick to the back of one kneecap, and his prisoner drops to one knee, allowing the Decepticon to swiftly cuff the captured mech. In another smooth, practiced motion, Soundwave loops the metal mouth guard over the mech's head, the thick metal bar spreading the prisoner's lips and denta into a grimace while he locks the bar and chains fastening together within the heavy lock resting at the back of the dark, bent helm.

Hardly a klik later, Soundwave finishes by yanking the silvery metal bag over the mech's head, shielding his optics in the dark, not allowing the prisoner to familiarize the length and direction of travel while he is escorted to the nearest Decepticon holding facility.

It is futile when the scientist digs his pedes into the ground when he's shoved forward, but he continues his hopeless struggles while Soundwave patiently pushes him towards the small Decepticon aircraft hovering in wait to take another prisoner back to base.

**  
Z is for Zen**

"Humans have such fascinating hobbies." Perceptor kneels down to scrutinize the small rock garden much more closely. "It is as if laying out each rock individually in its own designated area appeals to the humans' desire for conformity and ritualistic performance-"

"Aaaagh!" Rumble slaps his hands over his audios, trying to ignore the drone of words that are making his CPU freeze. "Boss! He's doing it again! Make him stop!" Rumble whines to the telepath.

Author's Note: Please, if you would be so kind, no inquiries about the status of any of my other WIP fics. They are in the works, but will ultimately be done when they get **done**. I won't make any promises about how or when. Between real life and personal 'arrgh' moments in aforementioned real life, I am not willing to make commitments on things that I know will ultimately be finished, but not on a definable time slot. I enjoy writing the stories, really, but I find that I grow a little bit tired of trying to meet certain deadlines that I set, and then realizing that I don't need these supposed deadlines, but I feel obligated to maintain these schedules, and because these are works of fiction, and done for my own enjoyment (as well as my readers). I won't be shackled down by these fics. I won't.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: TwinsxPerceptor Drabbles  
Author: dreamerchaos  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.

Rating: G all the way to Mature.

Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in a various array G1, IDW, and Shattered universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

******

**A is for Assessment**

**(G1 Universe)**

"He's cute." Sideswipe haggles.

"Shy like a retro-rabbit." His sunny twin muttered.

"…Have you seen that aft? And those big, gorgeous blue optics?"

"I wouldn't know," Sunstreaker crossed his arms across his chassis, "Given that every time I stand remotely close to him, he vanishes to dash into his labs, and I suffer through Ratchet's glares and Grimlock's snarls to leave the scientist alone."

"And that kiss! Not to mention how he practically melted in my arms with embarrassment...Makes me want to eat him up," Sideswipe grinned, relishing the memory of the microscope swooning in his arms, facial plating hot and flushed in undeniable mortification at the kiss and proximity with the warrior caste soldier.

"Can't really remember, with all the wild babbling and stumbling apologies he managed to bluster on and on before he imitated Blurr and high-tailed it from the Rec Room."

"….I have the code to his labs. I'm sure he's down there puttering on some project…All alone and probably aching for some company…"

"…" Sunstreaker casually hopped up from his seat, sweeping his arm eloquently towards his brother, bowing and grinning lecherously at his red twin, "Lead the way," The brightly painted twin hot on Sideswipe's heels as they make a beeline down to the lowest levels of the ship, seeking out their unwary prey.

**  
B is for Bravery**

**(G1 Universe)**

There is a sharp, furious shout, **"MOVE YOUR AFT!!"** Perceptor cries out, brutally rammed from behind, the world tilting then spilling forward as he is tumbled head over heels. A large mech nearly crushes the microscope underneath him, covering the terrified mech with his bulk, grimacing at the scorching flash of null ray firepower, paint popping and hissing as the blasts fall far too close for comfort.

Perceptor, curled in a fetal position beneath his savior, shakes and rattles, dermal plating clacking, hands over his audios as Seekers roar overhead. The scientist whimpered in unadulterated terror, optics pitch black, face ravaged in utter dread. "S-Sideswipe…" The mech whimpers.

Sideswipe curses the squad of Seekers, no doubt the 'Cons cackling over the near-miss. Quickly, the front-line soldier scoops Perceptor up, the scientist too weak at the knees to stand.

The microscope yips as he is slung over the warrior's shoulder, "I-I-I can make it!", but then winces in pain, the earlier injury to his knee sparking, popping yellow sparks and spilling energon down Sideswipe's hip and thigh. No doubt the injury the culprit for Perceptor freezing during the firefight, clutching the damaged limb, struggling to remain on his pedes while simultaneously fumbling to properly hold his blaster.

"Hold on tight!" Sideswipe shouts, taking off at a hard run, Sunstreaker popping up from behind a small battlement, loping beside his brother and his slung cargo as they make a harried retreat towards the drop site, desperately racing to reach the emergency shuttle before the Seekers decide to make another pass.

**  
C is for Craving**

**(G1 Universe)**

Sunstreaker's hands held Perceptor's thighs open, spread wide. Hunkered between the microscope's trembling limbs, the warrior laves and suckles and the mech's port, savoring the cries, mewls, and long whimpers.

Against Perceptor's back, stretched out along the berth, Sideswipe shackles the microscope's hands to the berth with his larger black fists, nuzzling and biting at their prisoner's shoulders, collar struts, and arched neck.

"_Sunny!" _Sideswipe gasps. Beseeching his brother.

Sunstreaker grunts, only deigning to pull away at his own leisure. He slides up Perceptor's chassis, grinning toothily at the microscope as his interface spike slowly pierces the mech. Perceptor cries out, rocking against the golden twin, legs enwrapping around Sunstreaker's waist. Helm rolling back along Sideswipe's shoulder.

"Taste, brother," Sunstreaker purrs, welding his mouth with Sideswipe's, glossas tangling, Sideswipe chasing the flavor of lubricant and oil within Sunstreaker's hot mouth, mingling Perceptor's flavor between them.

Sideswipe purrs, groaning as Sunstreaker dances his glossa across his bottom lip just so. He then cries out as Sunstreaker suddenly thrusts, sharply rocking into Perceptor, forcing the microscope to sway enticingly between Sideswipe's spread legs, Perceptor's posterior pushing and rubbing against the red twin's codpiece. "You said you'd share!" Sideswipe growls, frame aching, pulsing with the want to combine with Perceptor and Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker chuckles at his brother's raging, cooing soft seductive words into Perceptor's audios, continuing to tease his twin by drawing further whimpers and mewls from their berth mate as the gold warrior's words grow more lewd and descriptive with every passing astrosecond.

**  
D is for Duty**

**(IDW Universe)**

"You need to stop this right now!" Sideswipe hisses in his brother's audio.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Sunstreaker snarls, one fist half-raised as if to strike his twin.

"Have you lost it?!" Sideswipe demands, ignoring the warning in his brother's raised threat. Wrapping both hands around Sunstreaker's fist, "He's still practically a youngling! And a student!! And you…you're a wanted mech and facing arrest because you were videotaped at those fragging gladiator matches! If Security ties you together with him, he'll be arrested and possibly interrogated―"

"I've been careful!"

"Someone is **bound** to notice a sunny, gorgeous daffodil like you skulking around, courting a timid, unwary student! If word reaches his instructors, they're sworn to duty to inform Security any possible danger to their students, worried about their precious student's chastity, especially around a well-known participant in the gladiator ring!"

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt him!"

"Then do the right thing!" Sideswipe argues. Clutching his brother's hand against his chassis, beseeching his twin to listen to reason, no matter how hard it was to swallow, "You have to let him go! At least until things calm down…" Sideswipe coddles and pleads, no matter the struggle his brother offers to try to tug free from him.

Sunstreaker's helm hangs, his frame sagging against his twin's chassis, as if bearing the weight of all of Cybertron on his gold painted shoulders, "…Fine." Tearing his wrist free, he ignores Sideswipe's comms to come back, striding angrily out of their apartment unit, needing to vent his frustration and regret at one of the bars. Hopefully he'll find someone eager for a fight, his fists ready and willing to knock helms together and loosen denta.

**  
E is for Entertainment**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Sunny…" Perceptor gasped out, hands clasped over his mouth. Trying to stifle his laughter as the mech slowly dips his fingers into the large receptacle of freshly poured paint. The warrior's hands etching a rainbow of gold, red, and blue across the smooth contour of his hips, dipping into the cradle and seams.

"But you look so good bedecked in gold and rubies." The mech snickers, leaning up and pecking the mech on the lips.

Perceptor responds by dipping a finger into another container of paint, and gently tapping the damp fingertip against Sunstreaker's lips. Dabbing a fresh coat of summery green on the artist's lips.

Sideswipe was shocked at returning from patrol duty to find his brother and mate covered from helm to pede in various colored handprints, neither mech appearing contrite at the canvas of handprints upon the berth and walls.

"Sideswipe!" Perceptor, bedecked in a canvas of half-dried paint, bounced over to the stunned soldier. Kissing the mech on the lips, grinning smugly as the coy gesture paints the red twin's lips bright green. Sunstreaker roaring in laughter at his brother's expression.

**  
F is for Freedom**

**(G1 Universe)**

Perceptor is not graceful. His alternate mode proves not the least bit of defense against any weapon. He has no wheels, no throttle to race or flee from an enemy. He is small and easily forgettable among his peers who possess brilliant alternate modes to travel the open roads or to soar the heavens.

Still…for all of its vices, it's quite nice to be able to fit comfortably into either Sideswipe's or Sunstreaker's passenger seat, his driver gunning the engine, gas pedal floored as the twins and microscope carve the landscape. Perceptor's delighted laughter shadowed by the twins' whoops and howls, egging the other twin on faster and faster.

**  
G is for Greed**

**(G1 Universe)**

The twins snarl beneath their breath. Optics glaring daggers at the dense mech's back strut and his shorter, inebriated relaxed partner.

Perceptor weaves on his pedes, a half empty cube of high grade in one hand. Laughing softly behind one hand at something the shuttle said, he almost drops his cube, stumbling to catch his drink before it smashes onto the floor.

"Who does he think he is?" Sunstreaker pouts, arms folded across his chassis as he glares at Skyfire's back. Never mind the other milling Autobots in the Rec Room sharing high grade and celebration, enjoying a victory against the 'Cons, the twins' sole attention focused on the microscope and the indulgent smile that the white shuttle bestows on the chuckling scientist, "**Everyone** knows that Percy is with us!"

"It just isn't fair." Sideswipe whines, batting an empty container between his hands, "We can never get Perceptor to drink a sip of high grade with us…what makes the big oaf so special?"

Someone comments drily over their shoulder, "Oh, probably the fact that when either of you are buzzed on high grade, your hands tend to wander onto very inappropriate places on a mech who is very shy and very overwhelmed between the two of you molesting him in public."

The twins whip around, meeting Ratchet's bemused gaze.

Ratchet rolls his optics at the besotted looks the twins throw towards their smaller partner. "If the two of you will behave yourselves, then perhaps you should rescue Skyfire before your bondmate collapses into his arms from too much high grade." The medic chooses to leave the twins to contemplate the next course of action, his attention focused on Jazz and Prowl, Ratchet scowling, ready to browbeat an intoxicated Jazz about straddling the hapless, confused SIC, the saboteur sharing the cup of high grade by means of mouth-to-mouth. Jazz cheered on by Blaster and Prowl's fellow Datsuns.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe share a look. "After you," Sideswipe lets his twin lead, Sunstreaker cutting a path through the crowd, reaching the shuttle and microscope in time when the microscope swoons backward, Skyfire quickly reaching to catch his inebriated fellow scientist.

Perceptor hiccupping, CPU reeling with a sharp jolt of vertigo, legs tangling and falling back into the warrior's arms. He grinned dazedly at his mate, waving the now empty cube of high-grade, "Hi, Sunny!" The microscope chirps.

Skyfire grins in shy embarrassment, "Thank you. I didn't know if I would catch him in time." The shuttle rubs the back of his helm with one hand.

"We got it now, big guy." Sideswipe pats the worried shuttle on the elbow as he walks past. Joining Sunstreaker as they march Perceptor out of the Rec Room. Leading the wobbling, gaily grinning and giggling mech to their rooms, cringing at the thought of the morning cycle to come and the resulting hangover that would leave Perceptor grouchy and sullen, not to mentioned embarrassed about making a spectacle drinking so many cubes of high-grade.

**  
H is for Hands**

**(IDW Universe)**

Sunstreaker soon regretted the **brilliant **notion to bring his date to one of the gladiator matches.

Perceptor hid his face, shuddering at the violent cries and anguished screams erupting from the fighting pit. He huddled under Sunstreaker's arm, Sideswipe leaning against the microscope's opposite side, whispering steadily into the slimmer mech's audio, face also turned away from the spectacle. "I want to go home now…" Perceptor pleads, beseechingly tugging at Sunstreaker's hand. "Please, can we go? I-if you want, I'll take the train, an-and you and Sideswipe can return to watch the final match…"

"No, it's okay." Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stand, shielding Perceptor between as the crowd bolts to its feet, screams and roars in approval as one of the gladiators waves his opponent's sheared arm in the air, brandishing the damaged limb like a flag of victory, "Let's get out of here." Sunstreaker helped Perceptor through the crowd, Sideswipe watching for any wild elbows or over-energized patrons as the three mechs made a swift exit from the stadium viewing area.

**I is for Interloper**

**(G1 Universe)**

Ratchet and Wheeljack were taking a joor or two break from their duties. Perceptor, considerate mech that he was, offered to remain in the Bay and assist any Autobots with minor injuries or scuffs. Promising to call the medic in the case of an emergency.

The door slid open nary half a joor into his shift, the lone Minibot grouching something along the line of 'Idiots' and 'Oversized oafs should watch where they're stomping'.

Dimly he registers a muffled moan, followed by the whimpered complain of, "Sunstreaker, _no_…Sideswipe! Ratchet will offline us if he-mmpph!!" Cliffjumper freezes in the open doorway, unintended voyeur, staring in open-mouth shock as the infamous twins avidly accost the microscope.

The twins glare hotly at the Minibot who dared to enter the Med Bay. Sunstreaker's mouth sealed to Perceptor's, the bright twin sitting on the medical berth, while Sideswipe wraps his arms around the microscope's waist, the red warrior standing along the scientist's back.

"Get out. Right. Now." Sideswipe growls at the intruder.

"N-N-no problem." Cliffjumper holds up his hands in surrender. Slowly, carefully backing out of the Med Bay.

Joors later, the entire Ark ― and no doubt the residents of the Nemesis ― leap out of their dermal plating at Ratchet's furious bellow, _**"Stop molesting Perceptor in my Med Bay!" **_

**J is for Joined**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Oh, Sunny, it's beautiful…" Perceptor carefully grips the picture within both hands, his optics glowing and face bright in pure joy.

Sunstreaker's facial plates heat up, the artist unusually introverted and nervous about presenting his latest work. Sideswipe grins cheekily at the gold warrior's back, enjoying the moving picture of his brother and their mate both battling to see whose flushed plating burned hotter.

In Perceptor's hands, the picture gracefully depicted the twins and Perceptor sitting together, the scientist leaning against Sideswipe's chest, while smiling at something the golden twin said. The artistic rendition of a recollection from Sunstreaker's memory files made Perceptor's Spark glow, and he almost did not want to part with the picture long enough for Sideswipe to have it framed and set up on the wall in their room.

**K is for Kids**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Why you and red twin always touching Perceptor?"

Sunstreaker blinks at the question, meeting Sludge's curious question with an unflappable, "Well, Sludge, when two mechs _really _like each other are feeling hot and bothered…"

"Sunstreaker!" Perceptor waves his hands frantically, attempting to shush the mech, hastily trying to prevent possibly sordid details falling on young audios.

Sludge appeared more confused, "But not two mechs. It three mechs. It not hot, either. It's winter."

"All right, all right!" Sunstreaker gripes, "Anyway! When mechs really love each other, they like to hold hands, share a table together, kiss each other on the lips and wrap their arms around another and―"

"If you dare to finish that statement, Sunstreaker, I swear that you will not see the inside of my room or the surface of my berth for the next meta cycle!" Perceptor crossly forewarns the gold twin; while Sludge tilts his head innocently and observes Sunstreaker begins the ancient and time-honored tradition of groveling for his mate's mercy, pledging **never **to educate Sludge or his brothers on Cybertronian intimacy. Leaving the sacred duty in Ratchet and Wheeljack's capable hands.

**  
L is for Love**

**(G1 Universe)**

Perceptor hid his face into his folded arms quietly bemoaning the fact that he even bothered to online this morning.

"_Valentine's Day is when you share with the people you care about with a gift expressing your affection!" _Carly eagerly advised the curious scientist, Perceptor puzzled by this tradition, _"Perceptor, you should do the same! Many of the other Autobots will be exchanging gifts. It would not hurt for you to peek out of your labs once in a while."_

The scientist's plating flushed at the memory. How naïve of him not to notice that the small femme recognized his young, quiet crush on the twins! Carly, enthusiastic about helping Perceptor find true love before the upcoming holiday, finally managed to coax the microscope into pondering and pulling together a gift for the twins.

He still felt unsure about the box of heavy artistry paper and glossy, pristine oil sticks for Sunstreaker, and the slick plastic wrapped video game that Sideswipe had been bemoaning that all of the game stores had sold out.

With Carly's more dexterous help with the smaller, finer details, Perceptor managed to wrap and label the gifts, the microscope secretly proud of the red paper and gold bows. Carly grinning at Perceptor's awe, _"You just have to relax and trust your hear― Ummm, your Spark! I can't wait to see their faces!"_

It was soon after, however, that their plan deteriorated.

Like a few of the other Autobots wanting to remain anonymous in their gift-giving, Perceptor and some of the others decided to set their gifts in the Rec Room on a separate table designated to the mechs whom their secret-admires proved too shy to personally present their offerings…

…Or the secret-admires wanted to surprise the unguarded mech with not only the gift but also disclosing their identity after the mech opened the present. Such was the case of both Hound and Prowl, the two mechs already having opened their gifts, the green mech floundering for a gracious thank-you while Mirage smiled coyly, pecking the mech on the cheek. The SIC twitching his gaze about until finally falling on Jazz, the saboteur sliding into his arms when the black and white officer was at a loss of words.

Perceptor crept self-consciously down the halls leading to the Rec Room, praying to Primus that no one would notice him set the gifts down upon the elected podium.

He did not even make it past the Med Bay.

"_What'cha got there, Percy?" Blaster poked his head over the microscope's shoulder, curiously peeking at the two boxes nestled in the mech's arms._

_Perceptor almost cracked his helm into the Communication officer's jaw, jumping and yipping in surprise at the stealthy mech sneaking up from behind and unintentionally startling him. The gifts slip from his slack grip, causing him to cry out in alarm._

_Before the wrapped boxes hit the ground, a pair of black hands smoothly scooped them out of mid-air._

"_Who are these for, Percy?" Sunstreaker juggles to presents, noting the horrified expression that flickers across the microscope's face, "You're trying to sneak in your gifts before anyone is none the wiser?"_

"_S-Sunstreaker!" Perceptor desperately stretches his hands out for the two gifts, but the taller warrior easily holds the boxes outside of his reach, "Please return those right now!"_

"_Whose names are on them, Sunny?" Sideswipe grins over his twin's shoulder, jostling his brother for a closer look._

"_Come on, you two." Blaster lays his hands on Perceptor's shoulders, the red mech worried for startling and causing the microscope to drop and reveal his Valentine presents, "Why don't you just give them back and let him be on his way?"_

"…" _Sunstreaker twists the presents out of Sideswipe's hands, pulling one of the labels flat so that he can read the glyph upon the paper. "Hey…this one's for me…" _

_Perceptor feels his fuel tank plummet to the floor. _

_He does not wait for the anticipated laughter or the ridicule. Optics sting, and face burning with hot mortification, he stutters a weak apology and some half-baked excuse, pushing past Blaster and running back towards his labs, fervently ignoring the officer's cry that he was sorry, pleading for Perceptor to come back._

Perceptor had not dared to venture out from his labs, even when the orn passed. The Valentines celebration was probably near its end, and the microscope did not wish to face the humiliation or the condolences from his friends about the entire embarrassment.

Maybe he could finally convince Wheeljack to install an energon dispenser inside his lab. He could then set up a makeshift berth…Then he would only occasionally need to visit the rest of the Ark except for when he offered assistance in the upcoming battles. By the time the next few months slowly rolled past, perhaps the entire fiasco would be a distant recollection.

A pounding knock drew him to raise his helm from the resting place against his folded arms. "Go away, please!" Perceptor frowned at the door, surprised to have visitors, but not desiring to hold company with anyone right now.

If anything, the knocking continues much harder.

Perceptor sighs in exasperated defeat. Pushing his chair back, he moves toward the door, "This isn't really a good time―" He palms the keypad to open the door.

Take by surprise when the door opens to reveal two very familiar mechs.

He shoves his hands into Sunstreaker's chest before the mech begins to take a step into his sanctuary, "T-This isn't a good time!" The microscope shuffles awkwardly, his frame pathetically weak against the gold warrior, "Please leave!" He begs.

"Why?" Sideswipe assists his brother, the two managing to grasp Perceptor by his elbows and physically lift him off his pedes, removing the flabbergasted obstacle away from the doorway, "So you can hide in your little hole in the wall?"

"I understand if you were perturbed by my intentions, but I don't appreciate either of you intruding in here. And I don't welcome your insults about my reservation to remain in peace and solitude."

"Who said anything about being disturbed by anything?" Sunstreaker demands.

"And who said anything about coming here to insult you?" Sideswipe nudges Perceptor to step back a few more paces. Pinning the microscope against the worktable, his twin mimicking the gesture.

The scientist, confused by their intentions, stutters, "W-why are you here, then?"

Sideswipe grins, "You went to such great effort to give both of us such thoughtful Valentines gifts…" The mech's breath on his neck causes Perceptor to whimper and shudder against the warm gust of air.

"We'd thought we should thank you. Nice and proper of us, given how patient we've been," Sunstreaker purred in his audio.

"P-patient?" Perceptor gasps as Sunstreaker curls against his side, hand tracing the smooth surface of his chassis and tray.

"You can't even begin to imagine how frustrating it was to wait for you to make the first move." Sideswipe decorated Perceptor's jaw with slow, lingering caresses, kissing along the slope of his chin and throat.

"Guess it's a bit late to say 'Happy Valentines Day'." Sunstreaker notes, "But at least we get to unwrap our final present." He snakes one hand between Perceptor's legs, dragging a knuckle up and down the codpiece.

Perceptor gasps into the fleeting kiss Sunstreaker graces his lips before the twins begin to learn every crevice and nook upon his frame, the scientist not certain who leads the three of them to lie upon the floor with Perceptor between them.

Much of the next few joors are scarce and difficult to recall. But when Perceptor comes back online within the entangled embrace of both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, he isn't too worried about his fractured memories. Too pleasantly sore and sated to offer any protest when the twins tug him back down, the soft thrum of their engines hushing and leading him back into recharge.

**M is for Monster**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"Perceptor…" Sideswipe kneels down, scarred lavender Autobot symbol flashing in the dim light of the ransacked lab. Ruby optics bright in worry, he reaches a grey hand out towards the huddled mech hiding in the shadowed corner of the room, arms wrapped in a consolatory embrace around his person.

Blue optics gaze blankly, alternating between him and the extended fingertips, not recognizing his mate, instinctively shrinking away from the encroaching hand. "No please don't…please…Sunny…no…" Perceptor quivers, hands tightening upon his biceps, shifting across the slippery surface soaked in slivers of cuts and bright streaks of energon.

"Come on, Perceptor." Sideswipe crawls closer, shushing and whispering coaxing words and soft praises as he leads the scientist into his embrace, "I'm going to get you out of here…Megatron…Megatron will offer you safe haven….and Hook and the other Constructicons will be ecstatic to have you back…someone willing to listen to their harping and griping…"

"I can't let you do that, Sides."

Perceptor freezes within his embrace. A mumbled mewl of, "NoNoNoNoSunny**Nooo**…"

Sideswipe glared at his brother, the mech blocking the open doorway. Bronze paint washed with the red light of his optics. "You! How could you do this to him?!"

Sunstreaker hardly flinches or appears moderately guilty, ignoring the wounds and energon splashed upon the scientist. "Prime wasn't very happy that his new scientist refused to upgrade our weapons."

"Prime can rot in the Pit for all I care." Sideswipe carefully helps Perceptor onto his pedes, never turning his back on his twin. Glaring at Sunstreaker, the mech barring their only means of escape, "I'm taking him with me." He swears in frigid warning.

Sunstreaker spreads his arms and hands, as if opening in welcome, to embrace his brother. Long slender blades shoot from their mounts in his wrists, the bronze Autobot smiling devilishly at Sideswipe and his small friend.

"Just go ahead and try, _brother_."

**  
N is for Never Again**

**(G1 Universe)**

"I have nothing to say to you, Sunstreaker."

The gold warrior grimaced. "Look, I don't know why you're taking this so personally―"

"Oh dear, Primus forbid that your actions garner such a reaction on my part." Perceptor turns in his seat, moving his attention away from his project. Glaring at the scowling mech who dared to enter his lab.

"I didn't mean it that way!"

"You meant every word." Perceptor glares at Sunstreaker, as if he is something abysmally disgusting that had the misfortune of slithering across his sight. "You were angry when you found out that Sideswipe and I shared one night cycle together. You then made every effort to humiliate your brother and me in front of the other Autobots. Your behavior caused Sideswipe to sever our relationship because you lack the maturity to grasp the fact that he may desire affections beyond what you can provide. _And you dare to insult me now by insinuating that I am acting like a prude who has merely misunderstood events_."

"He's my brother!" Sunstreaker tries to dredge up some form of argument, unconsciously wilting under the microscope disapproving ― and the warrior detected a great deal of disappointment as well ― Perceptor's cold optics offer no remorse. "We've been together for millions of stellar cycles; before you joined the Autobots or stepped foot on the Ark!"

"Don't waste my time with your petty rationalities." Perceptor spun his seat back around to face the tabletop, returning to welding the metalwork together, "The only thing I will offer you is the promise that I will **never **seek anything from either **you **or **Sideswipe **for the foreseeable future. Enjoy your victory. Now…if you would be so kind...Get. Out. Of. My. Lab."

**  
O is for Opposition**

**(G1 Universe)**

"I don't approve of this…relationship that you insist on carrying out with the Twins." Ratchet frowns at the stubborn scientist, the red and cobalt microscope matching his censored tone with his own.

"Begging your pardon, Ratchet, but as you are not either my Sire or my Creator, I fail to see where your opinion will change the fact that I wish to bond with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."

**  
P is for Pensive**

**(IDW Universe)**

"You and Sideswipe are quite intuitive and very intelligent," Perceptor leans back into Sunstreaker's embrace, numerous datapads spread out around their legs, the microscope taking a break from his studies, "Why didn't either of you decide to join the Academy or finish school?"

"We didn't fit in with the elite." Sunstreaker barely lays an optic on the datapads and their contents, not deigning to try to decipher the scripted glyphs or the scientific theories detailed on the screens, "Not enough money. Not the right looks. Not the right friends. They would have kicked us out on our afts the very first day we dared to step pede into their hallowed halls."

"…But you and Sides are perfect to me." Perceptor's whispered confession brings a smile to his partner, who preens at the faint heated plating and the shy drop of the microscope's optics.

"That's all that matters, isn't it?" Sunstreaker turns Perceptor around within his embrace, kissing the eager lips that meet him halfway and slowly, carefully guiding the mech to lie back. Big blue optics blinking up at him in wonder and trust as he stretches predatorily across the mech, fingers probing the interface socket between the red and cobalt's mechs legs, causing the mech to sigh and arch into his caress. Datapads forgotten around them as the gold warrior proceeds to show the young student just how perfectly they fit together.

**  
Q is for Question**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Do you enjoy getting tossed and thrown off the seekers when you and your brother practice your Jet Judo?" Perceptor slaps down another smooth metal plate to weld over one of Sideswipe's many open wounds, the red warrior whining and cringing as the scientist carelessly manhandles his injured bondmate, "Or do you and Sunstreaker secretly enjoy your masochistic tendencies of dragging your sorry selves back to the Ark after being bucked off Starscream?"

**  
R is for Recharge**

**(G1 Universe)**

Drifting into recharge was an easy feat.

The microscope is also an early riser and has no trouble onlining to wait and greet the system's rising sun.

However, the twins make his efforts futile. Settled between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, one of Perceptor's arms trapped under Sunstreaker's shoulder, while the gold warrior's arms possessively encircle his waist.

Sideswipe lies partially over the microscope, a hand settled on Sunstreaker's hip. One leg pushed between Perceptor's, the weight anchoring the scientist onto the berth no matter how patiently he wiggles and tries to slip a limb free.

"Stop wriggling." Sunstreaker grunts, arms tightening around the microscope. Pulling the mech more firmly against his chest, binding him tight, "The sun's not even up yet." Sideswipe nestles into a more comfortable sprawl upon the microscope, pressing in closer to the combined heat of his brother and the shorter scientist.

Perceptor huffs a sigh. He hoped that Wheeljack would not feel abandoned when the microscope failed to appear to watch the engineer try out his latest gadget, the mech promising Perceptor that today would be the day that the small contraption would not explode in their faces.

**  
S is for Sparkling**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Congratulations, Perceptor. Sunstreaker **and **Sideswipe are both carrying your sparklings."

"B-b-b-b-but…" Perceptor looks ready to collapse at the news.

"Yes, yes. I know it is a shock. Nevertheless, I implore you to go back into the Med Bay and compose your mates before their frazzled patience and fluctuating mood swings overrule their restraint and they try to slaughter the other injured Minibots insisting upon teasing them."

"I had assumed the Minibots would show greater survival instincts, especially after what the twins did to Motormaster during the battle when the Stunticon boorishly pointed out that the twins were looking a bit thick and moving a great deal slower." Perceptor sighs in defeat, but eager to return to his mates, he steps through the door. Venturing in the middle of the scene, observing when Sunstreaker expertly dropkicks the metal lock-bar holding the medical berth upright, sending the berth and the cursing Gears crashing onto the floor.

Ratchet scowls as his patient whimpers and whines from his position sprawled upon the Med Bay floor, "No, apparently they don't learn after watching the twins try to yank Motormaster's head off his shoulders, promising to shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

**  
T is for Turnabout**

**(G1 Universe)**

"…Perceptor, I think I'm in love with you." Doe eyed, Sideswipe grins in glee at their fellow mech undergoing a brief detention in the Prison Sector.

"Charmer," The scientist's lips twitch in an unintended smile. The mech reclining in his seat within his cell, settled across from the twins' cubicle.

"It was….beautiful." Sideswipe gestured with his hands, "I mean, did you **see **the look on Brawn and Cliffjumper's faces?"

"Unfortunately, I was undergoing a reprimand from Prowl due to my behavior." Perceptor folded his hands, using them to rest and prop his chin as he contemplated the awed expressions of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's faces, "…But yes, I'm sure it was quite amusing when their weapons backfired during drill fire practice, rubber glue pouring out of the seams and locking their hands around the remains of their blasters."

"Let it be known," Sunstreaker raised a hand in solemn address, "Never laugh and ridicule Perceptor, or boast that the mech couldn't hold a blaster if it was glued to his hands."

**  
U is for Ultimatum**

**(G1 Universe)**

"You have two options here, Percy," Sunstreaker traps the mech against the wall, cornering the scientist in his lab. Perceptor stutters and fumbles for an excuse or counter-argument, azure optics round and wide as the gold warrior pushes into his personal space, "You can stop worrying and fretting over your crush on Sideswipe because he's my twin and you're afraid that I won't want to share, and you'll follow me back to my room where Sideswipe's waiting…and then the three of us can have a _really _good time…On the other hand, you can stand here and continue arguing, and I'll throw you across that worktable and 'face you until you can't see straight. _Then _I'll comm. Sideswipe and tell him to get his aft down here to join the fun."

"B-but…w-we shouldn't―"

Perceptor squealed in alarm as the lab swings about, various incomplete gadgets and projects spilling onto the cluttered floor as he is sprawled across the worktable. Sunstreaker pressing him down, fingers weaving with Perceptor's, codpieces rocking together as the gold warrior slides between the scientist's thighs, "I warned you," Sunstreaker stifled any further protest by stealing the breath from Perceptor's bronchial vents with a ravenous clash of denta and glossa.

**  
V is for Victory**

**(G1 Universe)**

"I swear before Primus that I have never played this videogame before…let alone any videogame!" Perceptor is in awe at the victory logo upon the large television screen, hands still holding the game controls in a slowly slackening grip.

Sideswipe groans long and loud in defeat, sulkily chucking his controls in the direction of the television. "Shut up, Sunny." Sideswipe whimpers, while his brother delights with another barrage of laughter.

"Suck it up, you big sparkling." Sunstreaker manhandles Perceptor into his embrace, smugly smacking a congratulatory kiss upon the microscope's lips, "You were the one who placed the bet that if you lost, you would willingly volunteer to assist Wheeljack and Ratchet with their next routine checkups."

"You make it sound so simple." Sideswipe snivels, crawling into the microscope's willing lap, while Perceptor reassuringly kneading the back of his neck and shoulders, "The _Dinobots _are the ones due for a physical!"

**  
W is for Wicked**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"You still don't get it, you complete, utter fool." Perceptor drags clawed fingertips down the purple insignia upon Sideswipe's chassis. The mech groaning as the appendages graze the ragged wounds, dipping into scorched and shorn wires, "There's nothing you can say that will ever convince me to join the Decepticons. No matter how expertly you grovel or cajole me to follow."

"_Perceptor.." _ Sideswipe implores the frigid, ruby gaze. Hands digging into the microscope's wrists, "Please. Please come with me…we can be together again. We can be whole."

The scientist rips away, snarling down at the sprawled, injured traitor. "You still don't get it!" Perceptor wails, aiming the barrel of the blaster between Sideswipe's optics, "How can I possibly be whole after you stole him away from me! You murdered your own brother!! The other member of our trine!"

"_It was an accident!" _Sideswipe coughs up wet energon, the lavender mech blood spilling from his lips, "How could I have known! We were grappling for the weapon and it suddenly fired!"

"You have no idea how alone I am. After Sunstreaker…deactivated by **you**…When you turned traitor…Could you possibly have any comprehension about the loss and grief I endured, and the rebuke and scorn from my peers?"

"Perceptor…"

"Shut up." The gray microscope snaps. Gaze impenetrable, his intentions resolute, weapon unmoving, "Maybe with you gone, I can finally be at peace. I'd rather be alone than to know you are forever beyond my grasp…the last shred of happiness I ever experienced."

Sideswipe automatically flinches and squeezes his optics closed when Perceptor's finger constricts around the trigger.

A jet careens into the microscope's side, tossing the mech in one direction, the weapon in another, "Don't even think about reaching for that weapon again, Autobot!" Starscreamand his Seeker Trine bestride the bowed mech, Perceptor snarling in pain, clutching his damaged limb, dislocated on impact.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Sideswipe wheezes, gratefully accepting Hook's assistance, the Constructicon hoisting the warrior onto his pedes, one arm slung over his shoulder, Mixmaster assisting him in propping the injured mech between them.

"Your message did not give us a clear GPS position." Hook scowled, leading Sideswipe towards the small shuttle while the Seekers wrestle Perceptor into stasis cuffs, "I hope this fool's errand was worth it, Sideswipe. He was truly willing to fire that weapon at you and finish you off."

Sideswipe chanced a glance over his shoulder, for the moment silently watching the Seekers march the prisoner towards a separate shuttle. The microscope's shoulders shaking, lips pressed tightly together, lubricants trickling from his ruby optics, wet trails dancing small streams down his cheeks as the mech cursed his folly for falling for Sideswipe's trap. The pain and betrayal still too raw, Perceptor unwilling and incapable of forgiving the loss of one mate to another mate he had loved so passionately.

"…One day, Hook. Maybe he'll forgive me," Sideswipe finally whispers, gaze broken when Hook and Mixmaster carefully lay him onto the stretcher once they board the shuttle. Hook shouting commands as the pilot begins to hit the various switches and beginning the protocol and procedures for the return to base.

**  
X is for X Marks The Spot**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"I am truly sorry that you had to suffer at the hands of your former allies." Megatron walked alongside the Autobot ― recently turned Decepticon ― providing the mech a thorough tour of their base. The pace slow enough to allow the soldier a chance to stride at his own pace, the wounds mostly healed but persisting to bother the mech if he moved too quickly.

"What's done is done," Sideswipe could not meet the fathomless, remorseful blue gaze of the Decepticon leader, the mech truly sorry for something he had no control of whatsoever, "You saved my aft. That was more than enough."

"I am glad to see that your recovery is coming along smoothly," The leader guides him into another passageway, indicating the labs as they passed, Megatron nodding a greeting to Starscream and his trine as they walk past the open doorway, "Hopefully your transition into our ranks will prove just as straightforward."

Another door slides open with a low hush, and a cobalt, white, and red scientist stepping out, attention focused entirely on the datapad in his hand. Seamlessly Megatron lays a hand on the distracted mech's shoulder and swings him around and about before the smaller mech smashes head-first into his leader's broad chassis.

"S-S-Sir!" The microscope gasps, chagrined that he has nearly plowed into the mech, "I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!"

"It's all right, Perceptor." Megatron calms the mech's frantic babble. Smiling benignly, "But this is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to our newest recruit. Sideswipe, I am honored to introduce you to Perceptor, one of our leading scientists, responsible for many of the upgrades and computer programs that have won us many battles against the Autobots."

"Perceptor, huh?" Sideswipe held out a hand in greeting, "Heard a lot about you. Pretty infamous among the ranks of the Autobots, with all your projects, especially the ones that succeeded in embarrassing Prime in front of the lower ranks."

"T-Thank you?" Clearly Perceptor wasn't certain whether to take that as a compliment. Placing a shaky hand in the former Autobot's, squeezing and shaking Sideswipe's hand in timid greeting.

The contact incurred a _zing! _and an energy shot through his Spark. Sideswipe's ruby optics flare wide, reeling from the immediate attraction of their Sparks.

"Oh!" Perceptor yanks his hand back, just as startled.

Megatron smiled charitably at the two mechs, not blind to the connection that had suddenly seared between them, "Hmmm. I do believe you two will get along just fine." He decides to leave the two Decepticons alone to become better acquainted, trusting Sideswipe in Perceptor's capable hands, the microscope certain to finish the tour of the base.

**  
Y is for Yield**

**(IDW Universe)**

"Surrender with grace, Sunny." Sideswipe's pede bobs as he kicks his foot up and down, legs crossed as he avidly views his brother cursing a blue streak, the mech sprawled on his stomach, the young student seated comfortably, and quite contently, on his back. The microscope grinning in glowing pride at executing a perfect wrist-hold, throwing the mech over his shoulder, and pinning Sunstreaker expertly with both wrists crossed behind his back.

Who would have known that their sweet, gullible, shy Perceptor had taken a few classes in Metallikato along with some nighttime classes?

**  
Z is for Zen**

**(G1 Universe)**

"No, Sideswipe. You spelled the word wrong. It's spelled Z-E-N."

"_Noooo," _Sideswipe refuses to back down. "I like my spelling better. S-S-P."

"And what, by Primus, has led you to that conclusion?" Perceptor inquires, aghast at Sideswipe's insistence at purposefully misspelling the word in the crossword puzzle that Carly and Spike had so courteously provided during one of their visits.

"Because it spells Sideswipe-Sunstreaker-Perceptor," Sideswipe gives him a look that clearly speaks for itself, 'duh, Perceptor.' The warrior grinning at the flustered scientist, "If you ask me, that's the perfect definition of Zen!"

Perceptor groans, covering his face. Resolutely deciding never to allow Sideswipe anywhere near his crossword puzzles again.

Still, he does not refuse the cheeky laughter and the nuzzling mech, huffing a put-upon sigh and wrapping his arms around the warrior's shoulders, putting the crossword puzzle aside for another day, his attention now focused on a bored and amorous mate.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: JazzxPerceptor Drabbles  
Author: dreamerchaos  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.

Rating: G all the way to Mature.

Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in the G1, IDW, and Shattered Glass universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

******

**A is for Assessment**

**(G1 Universe)**

"So what's a bot gotta do to set a date, my fine friend?" Jazz smoothly wraps his arms around Perceptor's shoulders. The scientist jerking in surprise as the mech sneaks up on him from behind, but then relaxes immensely. Leaning back into the saboteur's arms.

"If you can help me uplink the fusion cell to the inverter core without an explosion tearing a hole in the Ark that would greatly succeed in speeding along my project." Perceptor tilts his head, Jazz's fingers coaxing his chin backwards. Pecking the scientist on the lips, savoring Perceptor's upside down smile.

"I thought Wheeljack was renowned for his explosions. You trying to compete, Percy?"

"Aah, but your assessment is incorrect." Perceptor twiddles absently with a spare link of wires, "I'm trying to upgrade this device so that when Wheeljack **does** get his hands on it, Ratchet will rest assured that his mate will not be carried into his Med Bay in spare pieces."

**  
B is for Bravery**

**(IDW Universe)**

Jazz grunts, exerting the necessary brute force to move the heavy iron fence off the pinned mech. "You all right?"

The scientist's blue optics are narrowed in pain. "m-my leg…I can't feel it…" He grimaces, gesturing down towards the appendage, the angle and debris blocking the microscope from catching sight of the severed limb, his leg sheared off at the thigh. Energon pumping from the open wound, emergency shut-off valves slowly decelerating the bleed.

"My designation: Autobot special officer Jazz." The saboteur slinks closer. Holstering his blaster, "I'm going to get you out of here and to a field medic."

"D-Decepticons―"

"I know." Jazz is quick to hush the mech. Trying to keep him quiet and calm. "They attacked this lab because of the Advances In Weaponry Division. Shockwave can't wait to get his hand on you, and I'm here to make sure that that doesn't happen."

"n-no." The scientist gasps. Before Jazz can shush him, Perceptor's optics flicker a glance over the crouched Autobot's shoulder, "..Decepticon…b-**behind you**.."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jazz is twisting around. Hand snapping towards his holstered blaster.

The blast screeches across his chassis, hurling the saboteur backwards. He howls sharply as a sharp metal beam pierces his lower back, hissing against the burning stream of energy slipping down his back from the open wound. "F-Fraggit." He curses. The wound isn't critical, but it works extremely well in slowing him down. The saboteur wraps an arm across the blackened plating of his chassis, the angle of the shot and the breadth of his upper body allowing the blast to slide across his dermal plating rather than puncture and shatter his spark casing.

"Thank You, Autobot Special Officer Jazz." Shockwave's singular optic zooms in on the injured mech, scrutinizing the scowling Autobot with obvious disdain, "You Have Led Me To My Prize."

He steps over Jazz's stretched legs, the hulking purple mech striding towards the injured scientist.

"No. Please…I d-don't want to…not Megatron, please.." Perceptor shrinks in on himself, whimpering as Shockwave's broad hand yanks him off the ground, ignoring the scientist's pained cries at the harsh treatment and sharp pull at his injured leg. The broad arm slings the microscope over a shoulder, encircling the mech's waist to keep him steady.

Jazz snarls at the Decepticon's back. "Hold it right there." The saboteur thumbs the safety off his blaster. Shockwave halts at the sound of the weapon charging.

"…You Can Not Hope To Dissuade Me From My Goal." Shockwave pierces the Autobot with a dispassionate glance over his shoulder.

"You're not taking him." The breath flushes from his vents as he yanks his frame off the sharp metal, sliding free from the impaled steel beam, "I'll see you into the Pit before you set a pede out of this room." His legs manage a shaky climb, hoisting his bleeding frame up into a stand.

Shockwave turns about, blaster hand beginning to power up in kind. "You May Try." He warns, raising the arm to aim at the mech's Spark. Not intending to miss this time.

**C is for Craving**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"Shh, shh, shh." Jazz uses his thumbs to brush the teardrops of lubricant trickling from the prisoner's optics. Cerulean optical glass shimmering with the wet film of fluid, the microscope quaking beneath his hands, "Don't cry. Why won't you give me a pretty little smile, huh, Percy?"

The Autobot grins toothily, ruby visor imprinting his favorite mech's visage into his memory banks. With the practiced grace of a hunter, he straddles Perceptor, cooing in a façade of reassurance, "Come on, Perceptor. It won't be so bad."

"Please don't…don't…" Perceptor's hands wiggle helplessly, wrists bound tight within the stassis cuffs mounted into the wall. Pulsing energon chains locked around his ankles, trapping his legs, forcing him to endure the Autobot's roving hands and smooth words.

"Jazz." A cool voice interrupts. The saboteur peeks over his shoulder.

Optimus Prime, arms folded across his massive chassis, glares solemnly at his soldier. "Get to it already. I want to see if Ratchet's instillation of a reproduction chamber will prove successful."

Jazz pouts at his leader. "Awwww, come on, Optimus. Why don't you sit back and enjoy the show? Better yet," Jazz traces lingering circles upon the prisoner's heaving chassis, "You could join in."

Optimus Prime huffs in mirth, "I doubt he would survive the trauma." He shakes his helm with regret, "No. The mech has never been breached. I trust you with this task for a reason. Perhaps in the future when he has grown accustomed…" Ruby optics narrow, allowing his words to linger between them.

"Now you're just teasing me." Jazz purrs. He sighs in regret, turning away from his leader and back to the prisoner. Smiling gently as Perceptor's vents begin to hitch wretched sobs and clicking static from his voice box. "All right, Percy. No more stalling, I'm afraid." Jazz tenderly pats the microscope's damp cheeks. Slipping his glossa in between unresisting lips, swallowing the mech's pathetic mewl, black fingers clenching within the cuffs as Jazz's mouth and hands begin to work their way down his heaving red chassis.

**  
D is for Duty**

**(G1 Universe)**

"You don't have to explain." Perceptor's smile is resigned. He moves out of range before Jazz can reach forward to attempt to engage what they believe to be their last embrace. The gesture too painful for words to describe. He can't possibly endure Jazz's touch when knowing it would be the last. "Your duty to the Autobots comes first. There's no place for a bondmate in this war."

"I wish I could change the circumstances that have led us to this."

Perceptor's smile is as brittle as synthetic, the tattered silk-thin strand of their bond snapping to shredded pieces as he whispers, "No you don't."

**  
E is for Entertainment**

**(IDW Universe)**

The rest of the Autobots are curious, avid spectators as Ultra Magnus and his crew disembarks the landed shuttle, the soldiers saluting Prime as the semi-truck embraces the Enforcer. "It is good to see you and your team." Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus savor the reunion before taking a step back.

"Your team is eager to step onto land." Optimus Prime comments as Ultra Magnus' squad step off the platform. Shifting restlessly, holding back from joining the planet-based Autobot squad. Waiting for a signal or gesture from their company to show an affirmative to intermingle, "But they don't seem too sure about socializing."

"We've been bound to a small ship. For a long time in the silence and vacuum of space," Ultra Magnus nods his head in the direction of Optimus Prime's team. Silently bidding his team forward, "I'm not surprised if it will take a few solar cycles for their restlessness to fade."

"I'm sure my men will help ease them into our ranks." His words proven correct as Jazz steps forward. The saboteur's buoyant steps carrying him towards Ultra Magnus' team.

Optimus Prime's optical ridge quirks in surprise then admiration as Jazz saunters up to a red and cobalt microscope ― Perceptor, if he correctly remembers the mech's designation ― sliding into the reserved mech's personal space, "Missed you, Percy." The saboteur rumbles his engine to match his purr.

Ultra Magnus' team moan underneath their breath. The mechs familiar with Jazz and Perceptor's history.

So they're not nearly as surprised as Optimus Prime's team when Jazz pounces, dipping the microscope and sealing their reunion with a thorough smack on the lips, regardless of the crowd that is gathered around them.

"..Guess they know each other." Bumblebee's comment met by smirks and laughter from Ultra Magnus' team. Prime's men not sure whether to be stunned or impressed by the impromptu entertainment. Especially when Perceptor berates the saboteur for manhandling him, scolding words and insistent hands a weak deterrent as Jazz sweeps the microscope off his pedes, spinning him around in his arms as the the Autobots clap and cheer.

"I do agree that they'll work together just fine." Optimus Prime's battle-mask hides his proud, delighted smile as the Autobots are at ease for the first time in many solar cycles. Sharing laughter and open arms in greeting with their fellow compatriots and new friends.

**  
F is for Freedom**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"Going somewhere, my fine friend?"

Perceptor instinctively jerks away from the too familiar voice. "Jazz!" The Autobot scowls at the saboteur. "I'm busy!" Snapping waspishly at the mech.

Jazz, sitting on top of the large pile of metal scrape and refuse, kicks his pedes, patiently waiting while Perceptor mutters and sorts through his treasures. "Didn't think skulking around in the trash was your sort of thing," The red visor skimming a passing of a glance over the scientist and his small pile of findings.

"Don't you have anyone else to bother?" He despises the whiny pitch in his voice, but is fast losing patience with the mech scrutinizing his activity.

"Mmmm..not really." The Autobot pushes off his pile, hopping on one pede when he lands. "I'm bored with entertaining the prisoners. And it's so dull keeping Prime amused with the antics of his soldiers."

"How sad for you," Perceptor's optics roll skyward, "To think that you feel compelled to honor me with your presence. Truly I am not worthy."

Jazz chuckles. Scooping up an anonymous damaged part from Perceptor's small pile, juggling the innocuous bundle of wires and red paintwork between his hands.

Perceptor nearly shrieks in terror, "Give that back!" He snaps, diving forward to catch the device.

He's done exactly what Jazz has wanted and planned. The saboteur drops the part carelessly onto the pile. Capturing Perceptor's wrists, he spins the Autobot around, pinning him against a pile of metal. The scientist kicks at Jazz, cursing as the metalwork scrapes against his plating, "Unhand me this instant, you brute!"

"Nooope." Jazz leans in, teasing the scientist with a sinuous tongue. Laughing as Perceptor twists his head away to avoid the sensual kiss that the saboteur attempts to initiate. The red-visored Autobot squeezes Perceptor's wrists, pushing his chassis forcefully against the microscope's, "What, you think _freedom is the right of all sentient beings_? Don't tell me that you're falling for that Decepticon slogan and propaganda slag. You're an _Autobot_. You gotta fight tooth and nail for the prize…or if you don't want to be 'faced against the nearest sturdy surface."

"Haven't I made it clear more than once that I'm not interested?" The scientist gripes. His body betraying him as Jazz manages to dampen his lips with a successful swipe of his glossa. Teasing the seam of the microscope's trembling mouth, "It'll take more than a kiss to convince me that you're worthy of fucking me." Perceptor sneers.

"Don't tell me you got a date with Blaster tonight." Jazz's smirk is cold and calculating, "Pity. Heard he's been sent on a _long _reconnaissance mission. Somewhere about the skeleton of Iacon, if I remember correctly."

"I'm sure you whispered a few choice words into Prime's audios to ensure the officer was out of your way." Perceptor's optics shutter. Ruby gaze narrowing thoughtfully before he smiles reminiscently, sighing in feigned regret, "That's too bad. He always knew how to please a mech. And that mouth of his…" The scientist tremors at the memory of quite a few enjoyable tumbles with the officer.

Perceptor shivers for another reason at the low growl that trickles from Jazz's twisted lips, "I'd like to hear you complain after I'm through with you." He sets forth to make due on his promise. Denta snagging and bleeding tiny droplets of energon from Perceptor's lips as he attempts to devour the mech from the outside in.

Primus, he'd like to see the little fragger be able to **walk** back to base after he was through with him.

**  
G is for Greed**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Nnnn…Jazz…" Perceptor pants, bent over his workbench. Arms straight, shaking as he leans over the saboteur sprawled over the table with his legs wrapped tight around the microscope's waist.

Jazz sighs, rocking against the microscope. Drinking down every soft cry, greedily lapping up the words and gasps that spill from those succulent lips, "Feel just right, Percy." He purrs, moaning as his valves squeezes tight around the microscope's interface spike.

"It-it's too much!" The mech gasps. Rocking helplessly against the seductive mech spread alluringly underneath him, "I don't think I can f-finish. I'm sorry! I don't deserve―"

Given his impish pose and their activity, the saboteur shouldn't have been able to move as he did.

"Don't you dare," He snarls. They are now sprawled across the floor. Jazz straddles the staggered mech, pressing down to reestablish their connection. Moaning in bliss as he sinks down upon Perceptor's spike, "You're mine. Just as much as I'm yours. So don't you **dare** finish that sentence. I don't want to hear a word from you about not deserving any of this."

"Jazz!" Perceptor's hands slap against the floor, bracing himself as Jazz begins to lead once again. Helm and throat arching back as he moans softly, thrusting in cadence into Jazz's every up and down glide.

"That's the word I want to hear." Jazz approves. Sliding his hands up and down, tweaking wires and hot spots, coaxing a variety of whimpers and moans, "I also enjoy 'more' and 'please don't stop', but I'm willing to compromise."

**  
H is for Hands**

**(IDW Universe)**

"You are nearly obsessive in your compulsion." Perceptor allows his berth mate to caress every nook and square line of his fingers and hands. "I must confess that I don't understand your fascination."

Jazz kisses the center of Perceptor's palm. Embracing the microscope lying sated, limp and trusting upon the saboteur's chassis.

"Pretty easy to understand," Jazz swivels the scientist's wrists, kissing the ends of his fingers, "You create an infinite number of gadgets and assist Ratchet with minor field wounds. You design and mend." A frown mars the saboteur's lips, thoughtful within his dark reminiscing, "My hands have performed unimaginable horrors. Soaked countless of times in the fluid of my enemy. I've ripped apart an untold number of enemies by digging and severing cables and wires. And I can never wash that taint away."

Perceptor clasps Jazz's hand, bringing the slightly resisting appendage to his lips. "Then let me replace those marks with my own." He kisses a small patch of metal skin, "I have all the time in the world to interchange that stain with my emblem."

**I is for Interloper**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"You better have a good reason for interrupting." Optimus Prime's ruby optics narrow in disapproval as Jazz glides into the main hall, "I'm not in a forgiving mood. Not even for **you**."

The interruption has shifted his focus from his newly acquired pet. The smaller Decepticon prisoner tugging at the chain connected to the steel collar encircling his throat. Perceptor flinches when the Prime's hand yanks on the coiled shackle, pulling the microscope towards him once more, forcing the mech to tumble awkwardly onto his knees, helm butting against the Autobot leader's shins.

Jazz tactfully bows his helm towards his leader, seated upon the high throne, lips twitching in mirth, "Bumblebee nurtured my curiosity when he happened to mention our latest guest."

Optimus Prime's optics pulse, signaling his amusement, tilting his helm as he assesses his soldier, "I'm sure Bumblebee _willingly_ divulged that information, since I have only had this prisoner in my possession for less than two joors."

The saboteur shrugged one shoulder in feigned bashfulness, "I'm good at what I do."

The Autobot is certainly amusing. Enough to ascertain that he will remain online for a while longer. The Prime's temper mollified, "Perhaps you can be of some use to me." He tugs harder at the chain, pulling the struggling prisoner towards him, reeling him in, "My Perceptor is proving a bit difficult to train. Annoyingly stubborn for a Decepticon."

"Oh?" Jazz dares a few steps up the dais, only approaching closer when his leader beckons, "What lesson are you trying to demonstrate?"

"Apparently something too complicated for him to grasp," Optimus Prime grasps the microscope's chin, pinching the metal flesh, forcing Perceptor to look him in the optic, "Address your superior as _Commander _or _Sir_."

The Decepticon pounds his fists against the Prime's chassis, the blows affecting the leader no more than half-hearted taps, _"No!"_ Perceptor jerks his captured jaw as much as he is allowed in refusal, "I won't!"

"Stubborn." Jazz rests his chin on the head of the Prime's throne, kneading the tense shoulders, his leader rumbling in approval at the confident handling. Smiling toothily as the prisoner's blue optics flicker to meet his, "I _like_ a little fight in them."

"Then by all means," Optimus Prime captures the saboteur's slender hand, leading him to circle around the throne. Nudging his soldier to accept the loop of chain, "Show Perceptor how _persuasive_ an Autobot can be."

**J is for Joined**

**(G1 Universe)**

None of the Autobots are shocked that Jazz and Blaster are accomplished musicians. Their smooth moves, choreographed dances, and skilled voices were infamous; many times the two mechs would go out to observe, even participate, in the organic's concerts. The thrill of the crowds and the lights and the music too much of a lure for the Cybertronians.

Imagine the two mechs' surprise when they learned of Perceptor's own talent, a stray file from Teletran's systems supplying brief backgrounds each of the Autobots aboard the Ark.

"**Perceptor **used to be a **singer**?" Cliffjumper and Brawn scoff at the notion. "I can't begin to imagine the caterwauling that would come from that mouth."

"I can't begin to understand the words coming out of your mouth." Blaster's voice could strip paint, "You bots keep ragging on Percy for no good reason. Getting to be a bit of a sore subject to listen to."

The Minibots gripe and scowl, but back down under Blaster's glare.

Once they are gone from the Rec Room, Jazz can't help but to ponder, "Wonder why I never heard anything about him on Cybertron?"

"Maybe he was too young to perform on stage." Blaster shrugs, "Sometimes the sire and creator don't want to introduce their younglings to the hype of the clubs until their processors are upgraded enough to handle everything without a sensory overload."

Jazz's helm tilts, visor turned to the other Autobot, "Can you remember any musicians that stepped out of the spotlight because they were in the process of rearing a sparkling? Any that we didn't get a glimpse of?"

"Well, Richter and Quickstep had a femme. Think her name was Flare." Blaster ticks off the names with an extended finger, counting. "Then there was Skyclash and Siren…but I don't think their sparkling ever onlined. Its Spark gave out. They never did try to have another sparkling; they never truly recovered from losing him."

"Quicksilver and her mate Clash got together. Had a sparkling." Jazz adds.

"Yeah. But I think they were in Kaon when the Decepticons rose and struck out for the first time." Blaster's shoulders droop, "None of them probably survived."

"…We're forgetting someone." Jazz taps his fingertips on his chin. The mystery teasing his CPU, the saboteur wracking his memory files for some sort of clue, "Slag! There was another pair that had a sparkling, but he was too young to be introduced to the other musicians."

"I remember now." Blaster perks up, "Yeah!" He smacks his fist into his palm, "Discord and Harmony! They were teased about what designation they would give their sparkling, since their names were complete opposites of one another."

"And Harmony's alt. mode was a small telescope." Jazz grins, remembering the ivory and white femme and her larger azure mate, "Not too much difference between a microscope and a telescope."

"So…what next?"

"Next, we have a talk with Percy." Jazz rises to his pedes, "Hopefully he's willing to enlighten us with the reason why he never bothered to use his voice for the reason his kin raised him."

"I am not willing to discuss this with either of you." Perceptor frowns at the interlopers who dared to venture into his labs.

"Come on, Percy!" Jazz cuts the mech off before he can retreat to the back of the labs. Hands raised in surrender as the scientist levels his glare at the saboteur, "Why are you ignoring your basic programming? Discord and Harmony created you to carry on their legacy―"

"And look where that tradition got them!" Perceptor surprises them both by baring his denta in a sharp snarl. "My sire and creator are dead because they went against their _basic programming_, refusing to submit and sing words of praise for their Decepticon captors after a successful raid. The Decepticon squad and commander wanting their infamous prisoners to share the exquisiteness of their voices, Discord following Harmony in tandem…commanded to deliver a song of glory and tribute to the victors."

"Percy…" Blaster, stunned by the microscope's admission about the fate of his kin, tries to reach a hand forward in condolence.

Perceptor shoves the hand from his shoulder, scowling at the mech and his diffident gesture, "Do either of you have any idea what it is like to be so young, held back within the hands of a Decepticon soldier while the rest grabbed my parents…I watched what they did to both of them! This accursed voice of mine is spawned from their legacy, and look at what their legacy brought upon them!"

"They stood up for what they truly believed." Jazz argues.

"Perhaps their intentions were virtuous." Perceptor hushes, then fiercely shakes his helm, "but that doesn't change the fact that they're gone and I'm the only thing that's left."

"But that's what makes you so wonderful." Blaster mutes Perceptor's words of denial by laying his hands upon the microscope's cheeks, forcing the blue optics to delve into his. Trapping the darkly painted face within his broad hands, "Their union created you. You represent the best of Discord and Harmony's qualities. It's all right to grieve for them. But…maybe instead of punishing yourself and stuffing away what memory files that remain of them, possibly you could focus on sharing the gift that they left within your programming."

"……" Perceptor's chin and bottom lip tremble, azure optical glass shimmering with condensation.

"…Hey." Jazz finishes the circle by sliding up to the scientist, nestling against his back strut and boxing the microscope in, wrapping his arms around Perceptor's waist. The Communications Officer and saboteur holding the mech's weight between their chassis' and within their encircled arms, "You're not alone, remember? We have the same programming, too. Now you don't have to remain alone in the background. The stage is lit and ready. All it needs is you."

"…I…I can't remember how…" Perceptor crumbles into a aching sob.

"Don't worry." Blaster's smile flashes as bright as the planet's revolving sun, "You've got us. We'll remind you why our songs come from the Spark."

It feels as if a thousand vorns have past, shifted aside like the grains of sand upon a desert sand-duned landscape.

On Cybertron, in front of a sea of familiar and new faces, the lights flicker on.

Jazz and Blaster beam to the crowd, the strobes of light dancing across their gleaming paint. "We welcome the new era! Casting aside our badges. Neither Autobot or Decepticon!" Jazz's words stir a roaring boom of approval from the crowd.

"Together we are one!" Blaster sweeps his hand towards the crowd, "And together we greet Cybertron. Alongside us is the youngest musician that has been gifted to us! Sired by Discord, delivered by Harmony, let me hear your voice as we greet our youngest star! **Perceptor**!"

The strobe lights turn, lighting the third figure upon the stage that had insisted to remain hidden in the shadows. Optics flickering as the harsh light caresses his dark features; Perceptor timidly waves, earning another roar of approval from the crowd as he steps forward to join his fellows.

Jazz and Blaster meet Perceptor in the middle of the stage. "You ready?" Jazz whispers.

Perceptor's lips twitch in an unconscious smile. "No other choice now, is there?"

Blaster rests a hand on the microscope's shoulder. "Welcome home, brother." He switches on the microphone curved around his mandible, the speaker suspended in front of his lips. Jazz and Perceptor mirror him.

Together they greet the crowd, the lights, and the sound of Cybertron alive and together as one.

**K is for Kids**

**(IDW Universe)**

"_Sire! Sire!"_

_The exultant cry of a youngling draws Jazz's attention._

_On the next metro-station platform, a cobalt and ruby youngling races on unsteady legs, jumping into the white telescope's embrace._

_The tall mech laughs, pumping his arms up high above his helm, taking a good look at his offspring, "You're going to drive your Creator insane if you keep running off like that!" _

_The youngling waves his arms, squealing as his sire swings him around, much to the amusement of his fellow scientists and engineers waiting alongside for the train._

_Jazz chuckles at the image of the small family and crowd of friends enjoying the beaming laughter and uplifting presence of such a tiny innocent Spark among them. There were too few sparklings and younglings, with the threat of a civil war hanging above every Cybertronian._

_It was nice to see a glimmer of normalcy amongst the dark cloud of fear and foreboding._

"Jazz!" Perceptor bursts through the doors of the Med Bay, and throws himself into the saboteur's open arms, attempting to strangle his mate with the firm grip about the black and white mech's neck, "Jazz, you're all right!"

Jazz chuckles, ignoring the painful sting of the patchwork of welded plates holding his torso together, "Take more than a few Seekers to drag me away." Ratchet snarling in the background, but the medic not having the Spark to separate the elated microscope from Jazz. The microscope working himself into exhaustion, worrying about his mate, frequently watching the entrance of the base, waiting for Jazz and his team to return from combat.

The saboteur and the remaining of his squad literally scrapped themselves together long enough to crawl through the doors, leaking fluid and oil across the floor. The battle had been intense, and no one had escaped unscathed.

"Can't get rid of me that easily…" Jazz kisses Perceptor's cheeks, drying the faint drops of lubricants that trickle from the mech's optical seams, the microscope crying tears of happiness once reunited with his mate, "And once Ratchet tosses me out, we're going to have a little talk about you keeping secrets from me." The saboteur gently runs his hand over the microscope's chassis, pointedly tapping his knuckles against the warm plates.

Perceptor blinks, a hand unconsciously rising to settle atop his chassis, "Y-you…how long have you know?"

Jazz smiled, leaning up to kiss his mate on the lips, "Our sparkling likes to kick and fuss while you're recharging. Had to sing him a lullaby to get him to settle down."

The saboteur relaxes, smiling at the stunned look the microscope hasn't managed to drop, overwhelmed by Jazz's return and the revelation that his mate had known for a while that he was with sparkling. Chuckling as Ratchet rounds on Perceptor, heatedly scolding the cringing scientist for not divulging that he was carrying. "You little―!! I should lock you in your rooms until your sparkling is delivered! Of all the foolish, thick-headed!!―"

"Sooooo…" Jazz dares to try, "Does that mean Percy and I can lock ourselves in our rooms for the remainder of the sparkling's development stage?"

"_**Fragger! As if you'll keep your hands to yourself! You'll be lucky if I don't tie you down to the berth you're resting on until that sparkling is a fully grown Cybertronian!"**_

**  
L is for Love**

**(G1 Universe)**

It spoke of Perceptor's unwavering love when he willingly took Jazz's hand, the shy scientist sliding into the saboteur's arms, hiding his face against the black and white chassis, but allowing his body to follow Jazz's lead as the mech leads them into a slow song. Nimble footwork and guiding hands stealing away Perceptor's fear that he would make his mate and himself look like utter fools with his stumbling and lack of confidence on the dance floor.

He didn't feel out of his depth for too long when Blaster literally dragged a sputtering Red Alert onto the impromptu dance floor in the Rec Room. The Communications Officer spinning his partner, grinning to the hooting approving crowd as he began to waltz with the red and white Lamborghini.

**M is for Monster**

**(G1 Universe)**

"…'t hurtzz…_it hurts zzoooo much_…"

"I know, baby." Jazz squeezes the microscope's hand, refusing to remove from his seat at the patient's berth-side.

First Aid, Swoop, and Ratchet are working at another table. Restlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical instruments and spare parts, whispering their plans for the surgery that would take place in a few breems.

The black and white saboteur can not pull his gaze away from the black holes where Perceptor's optics used to be. A few tangled strands of wires hanging from the jagged wounds. A large chunk of his shoulder missing as well, the scope torn from its mount, the few pieces they could find resting on a small silver table near Perceptor's resting helm―

_Vortex is laughing. Primus, the sound of his rumbling laughter like a mountain-slide, the steady grumble of mirth intermingled with the scream of metal shearing apart. The Autobot struggling fruitless beneath his hands stiffening, staring in numb horror as the helicopter dangles the crunched red scope in front of him._

_Perceptor howling in agony as the Decepticon shoves his thumb through the azure optical glass, "Cerulean is such a boring color," He chuckles, dragging his forefinger over the microscope's right optic before casually punching a hole through the weak glass. Oil and lubricants smearing the Decepticon's hands, "I like a little bit of oil and carnage. Wouldn't you agree?"_

_Jazz is racing across the battlefield, ignoring Prowl's shouts to fall back. Leaping onto Vortex's backside, ignoring the scraping of the mech's rotors digging into his sides. Clawing at the Decepticon's ruby optics, hanging on tooth and nail as Vortex roars, spinning around and trying to throw the Autobot off him, "I'll kill you!!" Jazz drags Vortex to the ground with him, tearing into any seam and splitting every wire that he can reach while the Decepticon's teammates attempt to drag him off, slamming their fists down, gouging painful grooves into the saboteur's metal skin when he refuses to let go―_

"_**Jazz." **_Optimus Prime's hand startles him. The Autobot leader pleading with the saboteur, "_Please_. You need to let Ratchet's team start repairs. You need medical attention."

One of Jazz's horns is missing, snapped off by Swindle. Visor cracked, black and white painted a watercolor of black viscous oil and drying energon. One small doorwing dislocated, hanging by a few strands of wires.

He lifts his battered helm, silver and gray bodywork peeking through the scuffed paintwork and torn plating, "N-not until Ratchet takes care of him first." The statement comes across more like a plea.

"He's fine." Optimus Prime takes Jazz's shoulders, "He **will **be repaired…but he'll need **you** once he is out of surgery. You can't do that if you're in emergency stasis from energon loss and untreated injuries."

"……'kay…'f you say so…" Jazz needs Optimus' help to stand on his pedes. Swoop chirping in alarm as a fresh spill of energon erupts from the open gash in his side. The large Dinobot procuring the saboteur from the Prime's arms, rushing him into the surgery room where First Aid waited while their creators Ratchet and Wheeljack would wheel Perceptor into the next room to begin repairs.

**  
N is for Never Again**

**(G1 Universe)**

"No, I don't think Percy's gonna to show for the party. Oh come on, Sideswipe, don't look so disappointed. It's your fault really that he got his hands on a cube of high grade instead of the regular fuel. I don't think he can look at me or Blaster without nearly blowing a gasket, or his dermal plating overheating. Wheeljack still hasn't managed to coax him out of his labs."

**  
O is for Opposition**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Primus, what do you see in him? He's a dork. A nerd. A recluse. Has no social skills. A coward on the battlefield. Hardly anything to look at. You would be better of making a play for someone like Tracks or Mirage."

Jazz slams his cube onto the table. Leaning over the silver countertop to spear Gears and his cohorts with a barbed look, "For one thing, Tracks has a thing with Raoul. And Mirage and Hound are good for each other. And if I hear another word out of you, I'm gonna weld your afts onto the ceiling and let the twins have some fun; Sunny still hasn't figured out who swapped his water with axle grease while he was in the washracks. **Then** I'll let the Dinobots have a piece; I'm sure Grimlock is eager to discuss with you bots how annoyed he is about that prank you pulled on Sludge. Maybe after that I'll be merciful and finish you off myself. You get my drift?"

"G-Got it."

"Good." Jazz abandons his half-empty cube, stretching and popping his stiff back strut, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a fine mech and we're gonna go to a concert. Don't wait up."

**  
P is for Pensive**

**(G1 Universe)**

His CPU wanders into dismal places, _'What did I do to ever deserve him?'_

At a very inappropriate time, with the scientist mewling, wiggling in his lap, arms coiled around the saboteur's neck as he sinks down and impales himself on Jazz's spike.

"Ooh!" Perceptor pants, condensation dotting his lips as the pulsating heat pours off his frame, misting the air, and lubricating their mouths as the two mechs eagerly share the fierce heat and throbbing interface parts.

"S-so good, Perceptor…" Jazz gasps. Hands guiding the microscope into a slow dance, reverently following the rise and fall of the mech's port, as his spike disappears into Perceptor, the microscope's lubricant easing the way.

Perceptor shivers, whimpering in disapproval as Jazz insists on maintaining a slow pace, savoring the pleading of his mate, "Please please oh Jazz please I can't take it _please_!" The microscope begs with his hands braced on Jazz's shoulders. Pinching and kneading the sensitive wires and small doorwings, mouth chasing Jazz's poised smile.

Jazz hums his enjoyment, the thrum of his engine stirring another pleasured whimper from the microscope. Vibrations wrapping the mech within a blanket of subsonic caresses, "You should see yourself, Percy." Jazz pants against his neck. Rolling his hips to thrust a tad faster, only heating his partner up with the increase in friction, dancing the lure of overload just beyond his fingertips. "I want to keep you like this all night long. Right on the edge…just think of all the things I can do to you…" He hums into Perceptor's audio, "You're so wet…so eager…who would have thought that my shy, introverted Percy was such a dirty little mech. You're aching for this. I could spread you on this berth, hold you down and eat you up. Sink in again and again…wrapping your legs around me…"

Perceptor quivers as Jazz whispers lewdly into his audio. Excitement trembling up his capillaries, suffocating his mainframe with the bawdy arrangements that Jazz teases to place him. "I-I'd like to see you last long enough to go through with your threats." Perceptor is quick to answer with his own tease, capturing Jazz's hands, sliding their intertwined fingers up his arched chassis. Moaning softly at the caress, licking his lips coyly as their fingertips scrape the sealed hatchway of his chassis. Jazz groaning at the heat of Perceptor's Spark pulsing beneath the fastened plating, "Poor Jazz…you look ready to burst…"

"I think that's a challenge." Jazz growled. Toppling Perceptor onto his back onto the berth. The microscope wails in sharp ecstasy as Jazz pushes into him again, the change in position offering another degree of friction. Lavender lubricant trickling down the wide spread seams of his thighs, Perceptor moaning and whimpering, hands digging into Jazz's back strut, imprisoning him between his legs.

"Oh oh oh _oohhhh _Jazz _please_―" The saboteur suckles the desperate pleas, savoring each syllable.

'_What do you see in me, Percy?' _He wonders. _'What's a good mech like you see in a special Ops mech with too much energon staining his hands?'_

"Mmmm…" Perceptor mumbles in between lip-lock. Sucking in atmosphere through his overworked vents, "Jazz…Jazz…my Jazz…l-love you..love you so much.." He manages to pant, echoing Jazz's thrusts with a cry of sincere endearment against the saboteur's horn.

'_Ah. That's it.' _He remembers every time Perceptor whispers those words into his audio. Their shouts intermingle as overload finally overtook them, the coupling Cybertronians writhing together, the microscope supine beneath his partner.

"Love you too, Perceptor." Jazz kisses the microscope's cheeks, energon flushing underneath the heated metal skin. The scientist moaning softly, limbs still firmly ensnaring the saboteur, although the mech would be hard pressed to leave his mate.

"And don't you forget it." Perceptor boasts proudly, voice rough from overstressing his vocals during their…engagement.

Jazz snickers at his mate's confidence. "I'm rubbing off on you."

Perceptor's arms tighten around his neck. "I think something else is rubbing off on me." He thrusts his hips, and Jazz's spike sinks and rises. Both mechs moaning softly as pleasure pulses through their capillaries once more.

"Oh, you're a tease, all right." Jazz swoops down, eager to see how many rounds they can go before one or both of them off-lines from exhaustion.

Prowl is none too pleased when Jazz doesn't report for duty the next day.

Ratchet even more displeased when he has to scold the two mechs, cursing beneath his breath as he tends to the scuffed paintwork and low energon readings. Perceptor can't look at the medic for several days without his face burning in embarrassment.

Jazz just beams when Prowl demands to know what kept him.

The SIC doesn't bother to ask what is the cause of the saboteur's sickeningly sweet grin.

**  
Q is for Question**

**(G1 Universe)  
**

"Hey Percy, are your legs tired?"

The scientist blinks his big blue optics. "Ummm. My diagnostics do not indicate any sort of problem. Why?"

The black and white saboteur wraps his arms around the shy mech's waist, "'Cause you've been running through my mind _aaalll_ day."

**  
R is for Recharge**

**(IDW Universe)**

Perceptor softly ran his fingertips over the recharging mech's dark horns.

Jazz muttered, shifting restlessly, visor lacking its usual azure glow. Burrowing deeper into Perceptor's arms, sighing against the microscope's shoulder.

The scientist's Spark warmed, knowing that Jazz showed unwavering trust to willingly shut down and rest while in Perceptor's company. He dropped a kiss upon the black and white saboteur's forehead, missing the slight twitch of a smile on his mate's lips before Jazz nuzzled closer.

**  
S is for Sparkling**

**(G1 Universe)**

"He's absolutely precious, Percy." Jazz trills to their tiny sparkling. The white and cobalt sparkling squealing in delight as his sire tickles his outstretched little palm.

Perceptor kisses Remix's helm, the sparkling squeaking, nuzzling his creator's chin. Cerulean face split by a joyful grin in recognition, white helm a gleaming contrast against Perceptor's darker paint.

Blaster and Bluestreak jostle closer for another look. Their grins can't stretch any bit further, the two Autobots ecstatic to finally lay optics on Perceptor and his precious bundle. The creator and sparkling remaining in the Med Bay under Ratchet's careful watch and healing hands until the medic felt secure in allowing them both out of the sanctuary of his workroom.

Bluestreak clicks in wonder, smiling as the sparkling chirps in greeting. "Its really nice…seeing a sparkling again." The young bot kneels at optic level with Remix, not wanting to unsettle the little being with so many large strangers hanging about.

Blaster rests his hands on Jazz's shoulders, leaning over the saboteur to smile and tilt his helm at the curious bundle of little limbs and expressive blue face fussing about in Perceptor's arms. Eject and Rewind pop up from behind the Communication Officer's huge legs, curiosity peaked by the strange squeals and trills coming from the scientist's arms.

Jazz, the wonderful protective sire that he is, wraps an arm around Perceptor's waist. Leaning against his mate, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. Smiling at Remix's demanding chirr, and laughing, smacking a loud kiss on the sparkling's helm. "Can't be anything better than having my family right here with me." The saboteur can't wait until the other Autobots are off-duty, the black and white mech eager and proud to show off his glowing mate and their bouncing, inquisitive sparkling.

**  
T is for Turnabout**

**(IDW Universe)**

"Please, I truly do not have any credits on me―" The timid voice in muffled by the crack of metal against metal. Jazz's helm raised by the sharp cry of pain and surprise, the sometimes musician ― and free-lance thief for hire ― frowning in disapproval as he follows the angry curses and sound of too many bodies in too small of an area. The back of a decrepit building offering the best protection during a mugging.

"What's this, then?" Jazz's presence causes the gang of thugs to halt.

He recognizes the group. Stunticons. And there's Motormaster, suddenly in his face.

"Back off." The leader snarls. Wildrider and Drag Strip holding their victim by his arms, the red and cobalt microscope hanging from the tight grip, "This isn't your concern, little thief."

Jazz smiles, shrugging his shoulders innocently. Not put off in the slightest, "May be a thief, but I don't approve of roughin' up a civilian who's in tha wrong place at tha wrong time."

"Haven't you heard?" Dead End moves to stand beside his leader in support, "The Stunticons have moved in. We own this sector. Anyone dense enough to walk the streets should be ready to pay a toll to continue unscathed."

The thief hums. "Seems you mechs are enjoying yourselves a bit too much…Feeling all pumped up after Megatron's little speech and shindig at that not so secret rally. Think you bots are taking his message to Spark? Take everything for keeps that ain't nailed to the street?"

"He talks too much." Breakdown mutters. Optics shifty, laying a glare upon the thief before flickering away, eyeing the intruder with suspicion, "I don't like the way he's looking at me…" The paranoid Stunticon growls.

"You hear that?" Motormaster purrs, fingers stretching, curling into eager claws, "My men don't seem to care for you. What do you think? Should I do something about that?"

"You could." Jazz's calm infuriates the Stunticon leader.

Motormaster's large hands snaps forward, ready to break the thief's mandible. Curled fingers angled to crack and tear out his optics.

The leader gasps, then bellows in agony as the thief nonchalantly slips around his attacker, moving so fast that Motormaster appears to move as if running through thick syrup. With a sharp twist, Jazz dislocates the large Stunticon's shoulder, kicking out and this time dislocating a kneecap.

Motormaster crashes to the ground on his knees, grunting as his sparking knee digs into the unforgiving ground.

At his back, Jazz lays a slim blade against the tender metal skin of the Stunticon's throat. Impassively running his optics over the four taken aback mechs, their prisoner looking at Jazz in reverent awe, "Hands off the mech. Take your **trash** with you." He purposefully slides the sharp edge of the weapon against the dermal skin, dragging small beads of energon from the scrapped surface, "You bots don't make a move on me or the microscope, and I promise not ta give your leader a big _smile_."

Cautiously, Dead End and Breakdown approach. Heaving Motormaster up onto his one working leg, the Stunticon leader snarling as his dislocated limbs are carelessly manhandled. Drag Strip and Wildrider carefully lower the microscope. Their gazes promising a lingering deactivation as the team backs away, dragging their injured leader away, focusing on licking their wounds rather than risk any more teammates falling at the thief's skilled hands.

Once he is certain the thugs are gone, and not likely to launch a surprise attack once his back in turned, Jazz sheaths the blade in the cleverly hidden compartment in his wrist. Kneeling and curling his hands beneath the microscope's shoulders, "You all right?"

Blue optics blink in startled surprise. Clearly, he did not anticipate the thief to stick around after the standoff, "Y-Y-yes." He laughs shakily, wincing as he raises a hand and runs trembling fingers along the oil-slick paint scrape upon his face, the cruel scuff a gift from Motormaster, "I-I didn't think…I…" His bruised plating flushes, shyly tilting his optics up to his rescuer, "t-thank you…"

Jazz grins, expression beckoning 'come on, let's be friends'. "Name's Jazz." He helps the microscope onto his pedes.

"P-Perceptor," The cobalt and red mech accepts the hand held out in greeting, "m-my designation is Perceptor."

Just when Jazz opens his mouth to ask what a shy little thing such as himself is doing in a sketchy place like this, there is a flurry of raised voices, shouting the microscope's designation in obvious panic. _"Perceptor!!"_

"Sounds like I need to be somewhere else." Jazz regretfully steps away from his impromptu acquaintance, "Guess I'll see you some other time, Percy."

"But w-wait, please wait―" The microscope beseeches him with an outstretched hand.

Jazz can't allow himself to buckle and weaken in front of those big blue optics. He fades into the shadows, stepping out of sight just as the Security Team busts down the barrier separating the next street from the rear of the building.

"Found him!" The large Security officers surround the smaller mech. Their gleaming uniformed armor encircle the shaken civilian in a towering wall of shelter, "He's been injured." One of the soldiers ―personally, Jazz can't discriminate one from the other, they all look like carbon-copies poured from the same factory mold ― reports into his handheld radio. Gold bullion optics flashing, masks replacing any expression with the blank canvas of solid black.

"Perceptor!!" A femme, unusually tall, standing well over Perceptor and the Security Guards, shoves past. Sweeping the mech up in her long, thin red arms, "My dear child! I was so worried when those horrible thugs carted you away…_oohhh_, your Sire will be filled with joy at your return!"

"M-Mentor Fireheart!" Perceptor gasps, the atmosphere stolen from his vents as the femme hugs him tighter.

Jazz grins, chuckling softly as the microscope's designated guardian attempts to smother her helpless victim. _'Percy's gotta be the offspring of some bigwig if Security is up in arms to find him.' _He wondered if the microscope's sire was a Senator or scientist for the military, given the hullaballoo and fuss.

'_Guess I'll have to visit Percy in the near future and find out for myself.' _He promises to keep a close tab on his new friend. It would be a sweet challenge to track down the mech and slip past his squad of loyal guards and mentor.

He immensely enjoys the look of astonishment on the Perceptor's face nearly a quarter of a metal cycle later when he scales the tall tower, hopping onto the gilded terrace and grinning gaily at the mech through the open balcony windows. "Hey, Percy!" He greets the flabbergasted microscope, striding into the room as if he has visited many times before, "What' s shakin'?"

**  
U is for Ultimatum**

**(G1 Universe)**

"I bet you couldn't go a solar cycle without your dermal plates flushing." Jazz tickles the scientist's cheek. Earning the responsive flush, grinning in success at his accomplishment.

The microscope arches an optical ridge. Leaning forward and purring, "And I bet you couldn't go **half **a solar cycle without pulling me into a storage closet or spreading me on my work table for some…private research."

"…" Jazz snaps to his pedes, capturing the mech by the hand, answering the red and cobalt scientist's Cheshire grin, "You know, I believe one of Red's security cameras is on the fritz down a couple of levels. If you're up for a little bit of _intensive study_."

"Keep talking like that and I just might let you prove your theory with some _thorough_ examination."

**  
V is for Victory**

**(G1 Universe)**

It's a battle of patience and fortitude. A small victory to charm the recluse scientist out from the catacombs of his labs.

Jazz is hardly ready to wave a white flag, especially when the microscope straddles the white and black Porsche, "All right, Jazz, clearly you want something. Where did you put the plant specimen I had gathered?" The scientist's interrogation does little to give Jazz cause to surrender.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about, Percy." He rests his clever hands on the scientist's waist, reeling him in tight, "If you want, you can _search_ me for any evidence."

Face impassive, the microscope tweaks Jazz's shoulder. Holding up a fragile, tiny leaf, allowing it to hover between them, an optical ridge arched in disapproval―

―But he hasn't tried to break free just yet.

"Well, will you look at that!" Jazz gasps, "Now who put that there?"

**  
W is for Wicked**

**(Shattered Universe)**

"You're playing a dangerous game." Hot Rod's hands squeeze his aft. Rocking the scientist against his firm thigh.

Perceptor tilts his helm back, laughing tremulously while the Autobot drags his denta up his submissively bared throat, "He thinks he's so clever…" Purring into the domineering kiss, the two mechs leaning into the shadows of the alcove, "Just because he can have any mech that he wants doesn't mean I'll jump into a berth with him when he shows the least bit of interest."

"Seems to me he's showing more than a moment of interest," Hot Rod's gaze flashes over the balcony opposite. The red visor not concealed the seething gaze. Jazz's lips tight with frustration and disapproval.

"I thought you enjoyed causing a scene now and again." Perceptor pouts. Hot Rod bends down, suckling the tempting bottom lip, "D-don't you enjoy prodding his patience…t-the cool, collected saboteur admired and feared by all." The scientist pants, moaning softly, Hot Rod doing such wonderfully wicked things with his hand rubbing the sealed hatch of his port.

"Got me there," The young mech chuckles. Smiling deviously, meeting Jazz's gaze across the hall, purposely grinding Perceptor hard enough to drag a squeal of pain and delight, rocking their codpieces together, "Smokescreen's already placing bets on when the Porsche will snap, and whether it'll be me or Jazz who's going to end up in Ratchet's Med Bay first."

**  
X is for X Marks The Spot**

**(G1 Universe)**

Jazz whoops out loud, laughing as the shot nails its mark. "That'll teach ya to keep your hands off my mech!" Skywarp shrieking as his wing tears apart, flames and smoke pouring forth, engine sputtering as he spirals down into the canyon.

"Jazz!" Perceptor pops up from behind a shelter of boulders, "Was that really necessary! The Autobots are on their way. All we need to do is remain under cover."

"Couldn't be helped," Jazz takes aim as Thundercracker veers around, heading for Skywarp's position, "Not a fan of watching my mate being hauled off by some Decepticon. It's uncalled for. A gentleman can't accept such a brazen insult."

"Well I've certainly never been able to reason with you." Perceptor sighs, "But if you insist on taking pot shots at Seekers, could you _please_ take down Starscream first? His shrieking and curses are giving me a migraine."

**  
Y is for Yield**

**(IDW Universe)**

"_**Arrr**__! Yield, you cur! And hand over that chest full of gold!"_

"Perceptor?"

The scientist yips, whipping around to face the saboteur. Countenance dropping with relief, "Jazz! You must assist me! There is this online program called 'interactive gaming', and this obnoxious long-haired organic male with yellow teeth and a parrot is threatening to steal my treasure!"

"…I knew we shouldn't have gotten internet."

**  
Z is for Zen**

**(G1 Universe)**

Jazz gazes down upon the stunning face, Perceptor panting, arching forward. Their open chest plates bumping together, and bared Sparks merging. The white and black special ops moans, and the red and cobalt microscope hitches a low whine.

Jazz tangles their hands together, his mate…his _Spark_…answering the beating hum of its partner, Perceptor entwining around him, arms and legs clinging, "Jazz!"

The saboteur's vents shudder, "Love you, Percy. _Love you_.." Sharing breath and stifling Perceptor's shout of euphoria as their Sparks begin to churn in a maelstrom of white fire and nova stars pulsing at the core.

Jazz finally knew what it was like to taste paradise.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: StarscreamxPerceptor Alphabet  
Author: dreamerchaos  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.

Rating: G all the way to Mature.

Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in the G1/IDW/SG/2007 and 2009 Movie universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

******

**A is for Assessment**

**(2009 Universe)**

"W-Welcome back…" Perceptor bows his helm and shoulders in supplication as Lord Megatron storms past, the large mech clutching his shoulder where his arm should attach, "…My..Lord?" The microscope has never witnessed the Decepticon leader so thoroughly trashed nearly beyond recognition, and the smaller mech watches with stupefied confusion as the large Decepticon grits his denta in agony, broken mandible glistening with energon and bright orange internal fluids.

"Get a C.R. chamber prepped!" The large mech barks, causing the microscope to startle and jump into action with haste.

"Yes, my Lord!" Perceptor switches to his comm. link and warns Hook and his attendants to prepare for their Lord's arrival and see to his immediate needs and repairs.

Perceptor cuts off the link after a short exchange with the Decepticon medic. He turns in response to the whine of taxed engines as the Decepticon SIC transforms at the entrance of the down and half-buried _Nemesis _ship.

The microscope bows low again as his superior steps aboard the vessel.

He yelps when he is suddenly seized and lifted off his pedes, thick arms curled around his hips and shoulders. The smaller mech twists his small hands around the winged mech's collar struts, hanging on for fear of falling and crashing onto the floor.

"Starscream?!" Perceptor wriggles and is jostled roughly, the larger mech refusing to relinquish the smaller mech.

"Perceptor," From this close, the microscope determines the range of minor injuries which annoy the winged SIC, Starscream's words barbed with impatience as he strides away from the main bay and towards the private barracks situated within the bowels of the ship. "I require repair and _attendance_."

Perceptor shudders at the larger mech's command. Having learned from prior experience that the Decepticon was always in a foul mood when forced under repairs, no matter how gentle or tentative the microscope's retouch and maintenance.

Attending to the Decepticon, especially soon after repairs, Perceptor has also learned that the winged mech was quite a bit…testy and restless after the heat of a good skirmish and the hot stench of torn limbs and splash of fresh energon from gaping wounds. Many times after a good battle the SIC has tumbled the smaller, sputtering microscope onto the winged Decepticon's berth ― Perceptor's internals flush hot with embarrassment, recalling a few times when he was shoved against the nearest wall whenever Starscream proved too impatient to retreat to the SIC's private quarters ― and had his way with the smaller mech.

Slowly as not to incur the SIC's displeasure with too quick of movements and unvoiced intentions ― the Decepticons not daring to trust a comrade with their back, nor would they trust their objectives should their companion not first speak of their intent ― the microscope gently relaxes his hands from around the Decepticon's collar struts. Instead he curls his hands into two fists underneath his chin, coiled against the SIC's chassis while he lays compliant within the larger mech's stiff embrace.

An approving rumble against his cheek and mandible proves that his actions were correct. Starscream's talons uncurl and scratch gently up and down his plating. 

**  
B is for Bravery**

**(IDW Universe 'All Hail Megatron')**

The sniper scope crunches and pops within a cobalt hand. "You're a brave one to stand against me." The Seeker leers and pushes forward, shoving the smaller sniper back until Perceptor's back strut bumps the wall of the human building.

"Oh ho. Now you're a familiar face." Starscream flicks the crumbled weapon over his shoulder, pinning the smaller mech with one hand planted on either side of the microscope's head. The Seeker smiles devilishly, "I remember you from the Academy. It's been a long time, hasn't it? **Perceptor.**"

Perceptor's lips twitch in a moue of displeasure, unimpressed. He slaps the back of his hand against the Seeker's fingers when Starscream dares to caress the microscope's finely sketched cheek. "Desist." The sniper insists coldly.

Starscream whimpers, bottom lip quibbling with faked agony, "So unfriendly." He dares to stretch his hand forward once more. This time though when Perceptor moves to rebuke him once more, the Seeker curls his fingers around the sniper's throat. His hand tightens with pointed warning.

The microscope shudders, hand trembling weakly around the Seeker's firm wrist, the pressure causing his face to squelch, azure optics narrowed with silent pain. Perceptor gasps shakily as the grip clenches even tighter and the Seeker presses forward and arches and rubs against his chassis and microscope tray.

"Ahhh. There it is." Starscream's breath coos against his audio. The Decepticon's optics fever bright as he avidly drinks down the sweet sight of the microscope trembling and arched against his chassis and hips, thighs spread open around the Decepticon's thicker thigh. Perceptor moans softly, face clenched with revulsion and humiliation as the Seeker's thigh rubs against his cod piece, "You always made the most beautiful sounds, Perceptor." Starscream's sighs, lips stretched in a coy smile scant inches above the microscope's quaking lips.

A chirp of a beckoning comm. interrupts. Starscream hisses with distaste but reluctantly answers the summons, growling in Decepticon code while his prey twists and rakes his fingers down the Seeker's taut stretched arm, stripping the paint and leaves long scratches of silver alloy.

"You're in luck." Starscream sighs, the sting of his ruined paint and roughened alloy a minor note of interest, "Our leaders are in the midst of combat and Lord Megatron requires my assistance, it would seem."

Perceptor sags with relief when the hand releases. He clutches at his sore cables, vents hiccupping for atmosphere.

A sharp gasp precedes a sudden crash of mouth upon mouth as the Seeker darts forward and seizes the opening. Starscream ravishes and bites at the stubbornly clenched entrance until Perceptor acquiesces under the sting of bruised dermal plating, a thin rivulet of energon snaking from the corner of his mouth. Starscream growls and chases the trail of lavender, glossa laving the inside cavern beyond the sniper's sweet succulent lips.

They part, Perceptor sliding down onto his posterior, a hand slapped over his mouth, staring up aghast at the Decepticon's audaciousness.

Starscream grins, snaking his glossa out to flick across his bottom lip to savor the scant flavor of the Autobot that still kisses his wet dermal flesh. "Try to stay online. I have so many plans. And I'm quite eager to include you in them in the near future." The Seeker erupts with a gale of laughter as he sails upward, thrusters lifting him upward as he sails effortlessly to spear the blue and alabaster sky.

**C is for Craving**

**(2007 Universe)**

"_**Run! Run!!"**_

Civilians flee for the emergency shelters as the Decepticon Seekers scream across the Cybertronian night cycle sky. Mechs and femmes throw their arms over their helms in vain to shield audio receptors from the roar of jet turbines.

Perceptor helps Hoist heave Grapple onto his pedes, the pale gold crane stumbling while the street groans and quakes beneath them as the Decepticon tanks roll down neighboring avenues.

"They've already found the shelters!" Hoist gasps, one of Grapple's arms thrown over a broad green shoulder, "Someone on the city council sold us out! We're Neutrals….we're sitting copper-ducks!"

Perceptor shoves him and his injured friend forward, fuel tank sinking with alarm when a glowing umber optic turns their way, _"Decepticon!"_ In vain the microscope tries to hurry his companions, Grapple moaning, favoring a sprained ankle strut and torn cable.

Payload thunders behind them, the large purple Decepticon effortlessly closing the meters between him and the smaller Neutrals who try to flee for cover and safety of the tight alleyways.

"Get down!!" Hoist shoves Perceptor and Grapple to the debris littered street and tries to shield the two mechs with his own frame as the Decepticon hangs above them.

Perceptor and Grapple's hands screech down Hoist's shoulders and arms as the mech is ripped away from them, the two Neutrals screaming for their friend as he is clutched in an unforgiving tight bear hug.

"So many to choose from," Payload chuckles while Hoist kicks and tosses his head back to clang against the Decepticon's deep chassis, the smaller green Neutral cursing behind the tight thick bars of Payload's arms.

"Now don't be greedy." Grapple and Perceptor whip their heads around at the cool purr, the two Neutrals dreadfully recognizing the Decepticon accent.

Starscream dexterously steps across the fire strewn and torn street, his eloquently bent legs accenting a minute bob in his long steps.

Blackout purrs, crouching closer to the two trapped Neutrals, dark mandible stretched in a pleasant façade of a charming grin. Grapple shrinks back from the huge black Cybertronian.

"Such a bright color…" Blackout purrs appreciatively, optics raking down the Neutral's paintwork. Grapple shudders as long claws tap along his silver face, the darker toned Decepticon leaning closer, one hand curling around his injured leg, preventing the smaller Neutral from scrabbling backwards away from the huge mech.

"L-Leave him alone--" Perceptor stutters.

A large hand shoves him flat upon his back, the Decepticon second in command pinning the Neutral down like a poisonous spider would a buzzing fly.

"Shush now." Starscream soothes. Beside them, Grapple struggles and thrashes his hands within Blackout's curled hands, while Hoist persists in trying to dent in Payload's hips and chassis with fervent rebuking kicks as the large purple Decepticon forces the green Neutral onto the ground.

"Don't--" Perceptor begs, the stars in the night cycle sky blocked by the eclipse of Starscream's winged shoulders as the second in command crouches closer, "D-Don't…no…Leave us alone!"

"You make it sound as if prisoners have a say," The other two Decepticons echo his humor as Starscream smirks dangerously, "in how we shall choose to slake our craving for _companionship_."

**  
D is for Duty**

**(Shattered Glass Universe)**

"Don't do this." The Autobot begs, curled upon the floor of the thrumming shuttle. Hands locked behind his back in stasis cuffs, the ruby eyed mech begs his captor, "He'll send Jazz and Ricochet after me. Have you ever had the twins hunt you? Please…_let me go_."

The white and red Decepticon punches in the code to begin the sequence to launch the emergency shuttle from deep inside Autobot territory. He could only pray to Primus that Megatron and the others had received his mayday and were preparing for a hasty exit aboard the small 'liberated' Autobot shuttle.

"I made a promise to you many vorns ago that I would break the bonds that kept you tied to that tyrant." Starscream's fingers fly across the keys, his hand slowly guides the lever to guide the power to the shuttle's engines.

Perceptor thumps his helm upon the floor when he collapses further upon the floor. Defeated, confused ruby optics twitch between the seated Decepticon and the sealed hatch of the shuttle. "Please…Please…if I return in time, Optimus won't have me punished…"

"Shut. Up. Perceptor." Starscream snarls, "Do not utter that filth's name."

Perceptor moans as the thumps and buzz of laser guns pitch higher against the sealed and locked shuttle hatch. The scientist cringes at the number of Autobots attempting to break down the barrier. "They'll find me. They'll make everything hurt. All over. Again and again until I pray for deactivation--"

Starscream shoves the lever hard, shunting all power to the engines as the shuttle crescendos to full power. In the reflection of the viewing windows, the Decepticon can make out the dark shadows of the Autobot Seekers hurled backwards from the gust of thrust and heat of the engines powering completely online.

The Decepticon finishes prepping the vessel just as the shuttle crests the tallest towers of the Autobot base, racing towards the distance for the Decepticon territory.

Switching the shuttle into autopilot, the winged Decepticon abandons his seat and drops to his knees beside the cuffed, trembling mech.

"Why did you keep your promise?" Perceptor curls against his chassis when the red and white mech pulls him into his arms, the dark gray and rust red plates mar the Decepticon's pristine bodywork. "You're not bound by any duty to salvage an old classmate that you knew from the Academy. And you've only sealed my fate when Optimus Prime labels me as a traitor."

Starscream wraps around the smaller mech until he tucks the Decepticon so close that he could hide the mech from sight, broad white wings arched above like an mechanized angel's halo.

"I won't let him touch you ever again." Starscream steadfastly ignores the Autobot's unrepressed whimpers and mumbling, the paranoid and terrified mech too steeped in dread at the digitized brainstorm of punishment that his glorified warlord would deliver upon him should the Prime ever get his hands on the smaller microscope.

"I made a promise, Perceptor. I told you that I wouldn't abandon you." Starscream pressed his lips to his old friend's temple, murmuring words of comfort, hands running up and down the mech's back strut to try and dissuade the rattles and quakes. "And I don't plan to let you forget that you are safe now, no matter if I have to remind you every orn or every joor."

**  
E is for Entertainment**

**(G1 Universe)**

Starscream taps two fingertips upon the armrest of his throne. Behind and above the looming throne, the previous Decepticon leader's fusion cannon is mounted upon the wall, the large plaque signifying their new glorious leader and his triumph over Lord Megatron.

The Seeker's vents sigh with boredom, and he crosses his legs to sit charismatically. His optics flicker throughout the vast expanse of his main chambers.

He catches sight of one mech of interest. Grinning winningly, Starscream crooks his fingers and beckons for the smaller mech to come forward.

Perceptor stumbles to follow the silent command, the scientist's hands clenched and tugging at the thick silver collar snapped around his throat. The collar forcing the slave to obey his Lord's every instruction.

"I require sustenance." Perceptor's features flinch at the Seeker's command, but he dutifully abides. The former Autobot approaches the table and tall iron pitcher overflowing with high grade, smoothly pouring the rich fluid into a gleaming obsidian chalice.

Starscream smiles as he takes the chalice from the microscope. His lips curl along the rim, sipping the heady fluid, optics never wavering from the hunched shoulders and bent helm.

"You're as depressing as the other Autobots whom I have taken as prisoners of war." Those shoulders flinch, "I would have thought that rending the Matrix from the Prime's chassis would have broken your bonds of staunch loyalty, but it seems I have been proven wrong."

Perceptor raises his helm when fingers curl under his chin, coaxing the prisoner to bare his face.

"Am I such an unpleasant master?" Starscream questions, genuinely curious.

"……." Perceptor pinches his lips and refuses to answer.

The tall Seeker sighs. "Come here." He commands.

Perceptor steps into the Decepticon Lord's reach, pulled effortless upon the seated mech's lap. He straddles the Seeker's thighs, hands resting on broad shoulders.

"Remember this," Starscream cautions, one hand jealously dragging up and down the back of the microscope's trembling thighs, "I have the power to bend or break you. You are only suited for entertaining me should I deem so. You share company with me should I wish it no matter how much I displease you. Your duty is to answer to my needs, no matter when or how frequently you are summoned."

"…Yes. Lord Starscream." Perceptor bows his chin in submission, slowly answering his Lord's command to widen his propped knees and arch against the Decepticon's caress.

**  
F is for Freedom**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Take me with you!" Perceptor clings to Starscream's chassis, hands woven with the Decepticon's large, smooth cobalt blue fingers, "Please…I can't bear to hold this pretense any longer."

"It is far too dangerous." Starscream hushes, "You are in far too deep. The Autobots are unaware of a spy inside their science guild. You are safer on the _Ark _without your role being revealed by hanging around out here with me for too long."

"I don't care!" Perceptor shakes his helm, "I'm no more than a shadow to them that skulks in the corner. No one notices whether I leave my labs or refuel after long orns of solitude with my projects. Primus knows I never thought I'd miss Soundwave's Pit-spawn Cassettes, but at least Rumble and Frenzy would invade my sanctuary and pester me into submission. I can't stand being amongst the Autobots any longer! They speak of equality, but they discriminate against anyone who is weaker or lacks interest in combat or has ties to nobility. If only you were forced to hear what they said about Mirage because of his heritage…"

"…Megatron won't be pleased if you fail in your mission."

Perceptor huffs, annoyed, "Who said anything about _failure_?"

Starscream leans back, arms still tight around Perceptor, but he tilts away far enough to look down at his mate.

Perceptor holds a small computer disk between thumb and forefinger, a pleased glimmer in blue optics, "You are certainly correct about one thing: the Autobots would never suspect their meek, introverted little scientist from hacking into the mainframe of the _Ark _and downloading copies of all the encrypted files and security codes."

**  
G is for Greed  
(2007 Universe 'The Reign of Starscream')**

"Show me."

Perceptor dreads his dermal plates will rattle off his protoform, he shakes so badly with fear.

The Decepticon curls above him, his superior weight and breadth push the shorter, thinner mech deeper into the trench of rust red rocks and soil. The Autobot microscope's efforts to hide upon the surface of the red planet fruitless, the crashed Decepticon warship his earliest warning that the planet is already inhabited.

Perceptor learns all too soon, but too late to save himself that the residents still remain close by, just outside the planet's thick atmosphere. This one particular mech an all too familiar presence during the Great War; the dreaded wing beast of every Autobot's darkest nightmare.

Starscream drags the curve of his denta down a straight line, descending slowly upon the microscope's quaking chassis and curved abdominal plates. One large hand cuffs the Autobot's wrists within long fingers.

"Show me…" Starscream demands while he nuzzles and purrs at the smaller mech's chassis. Directly above the microscope's shielded Spark chamber.

Perceptor whips his head left and right in avid refusal.

He keens with hastened alarm, panicked flailing of his lower limbs follows when the Decepticon grows too impatient. With one hand, the larger mech squeezes and thrusts his fingers into the middle seam of the Autobot's chassis. The broad plates groan and quake while they grind apart, the forceful entry ruins several rudimentary yet vital latches and sealant lines that keep his chassis sealed tight.

"You will not deny me." Starscream leers with triumph when the two pieces reluctantly part, opening up wide the microscope's delicate and clandestine internal components.

"Don't…" Perceptor begs, helm falling back as the Decepticon mercilessly bends forward, the ridges of his mouth and glinting denta curl and snag tiny capillaries within the depths and tangle of energon cables, "—Please!" The Autobot's vents sob all the while the Decepticon laves and nips along the gold rim of his warm aglow Spark casing.

The borealis of ivory and snow white furls of Spark light illuminates the Decepticon's wicked arched features, two scarlet slanted stars and deep ruby moons hover and bask in the face of the glaring bright sun.

Starscream ignores the Autobot's pleas, greedily dipping his glossa into the corona of nova light. The heat and licks of white light chase across his lips and glossa, as sharp as a river of diamonds and as scorching as magma. He swallows it down with a chaser of the mech's escalating wails, the Autobot's Spark flaring open when the casing splits apart, responsive to the expert touch and caress.

Starscream's ominous ruby Spark hums and his plates unlock, the internal key switches online the sequence to separate his chassis' pieces from their intimate jigsaw puzzle of locks and patches.

"Good little mech." Starscream approves as he shoves their two Sparks together, a lavender bead of light sparks and churns within the maelstrom of raging suns as their essence battles and twists and combines.

**H is for Hands**

**(G1 Universe)**

Ratchet's optics widen in comical alarm, two fingers pressed to his temple as he mutters over the comm. link relaying their situation to Jazz and the other Autobots, the red and white medic's mouth opened to shout in warning as a shadow falls over the Autobot microscope, Perceptor focused on his ruined blaster while the medic and scientist crouch behind a bank of tall rocks.

Perceptor instinctively threads his hands and arms on top of the white forearms and cobalt hands that snake around his waist, alarmed by the sudden bulk of another Cybertronian against his back strut. Ratchet curses and throws a hand forward in vain to try and snag the scientist.

The Autobot scientist swallows a terrified scream as the ground is wrenched from underneath his pedes, vertigo choking his fuel pump as the Autobot medic and peppered rock walls fall away, as small as marbles amongst the sand and pebbles of the desert.

'_No! Don't drop me, please!' _His processor gibbers with terror, while his vocoder rises to shout _**"Ratchet!!"**_ as the medic is left alone amongst the raging battlefield. Perceptor throws both arms forward as if he can magically summon the medic to him, "Let me go! Ratchet..Ratchet!! I can't leave him!"

The Seeker shrills with laughter, arms coiled tight around his prize. "You should be more concerned about yourself, little _Autobot_."

**I is for Interloper**

**(IDW Universe)**

"_Come out, come out, little Autobot…"_

Perceptor slips around the blind corner of the corridor, vents wheezing from exertion.

"Someone.." Perceptor hits his comm. link again, "Please respond. D-Decepticons have boarded the _Valiant. _We are in need of military support―"

"_Hhsssssssssssssssssss.."_

Perceptor moans weakly, again hearing only static as his sole answer. The communications system hacked and corrupted by the Decepticon technopath.

"_Little mech…"_

Perceptor pushes away from the wall, glancing over his shoulder as he moves as quickly and quietly as possible down the corridor, the long hallway lit only by the glowing red glaze of the emergency lights.

"…_are you afraid of the dark?"_

The scientist freezes as the lights flicker and die. He hunches down into a crouch, his night vision too inferior to break through the pitch black of the hall. He curses his folly for not having taken the time or accepted the assistance offered by Blaster to fiddle with his internal systems and download such vital upgrades.

Perceptor breaks and cries out weakly, scrambling backwards on his hands and pedes as two glowing ruby optics power online mere feet in front of him. Scarlet flames pool around the glowing plates, the Decepticon's plating heating with excited fervor at finally corning his wily prey after such a long chase throughout the huge Autobot vessel.

"_Found you." _Silver denta gleam sharply amongst the heavy canvas of the darkness.

**J is for Joined**

**(Shattered Glass Universe)**

Perceptor uses his knowledge of the pockets of hallways and quarters outside the range of Red Alert's wide-spread field of cameras. He skulks down to the prison barracks, avoiding the sporadic sentries to pace the dark halls.

Finding his quarry, Perceptor steps up dangerously close to the hot, glowing energy bars of the small cell.

"Starscream."

Blue optics glow from within the dark recesses of the cell. The winged Decepticon shifts his cuffed hands resting upon his knees, a ghost of a smile touching his face.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" The pale white and rich red paint is scuffed and sullied from too rough hands and old stains of energon, but the Decepticon's smile is beautiful regardless.

Perceptor whines beneath the breath of his vents, ruby gaze tight with fiercely snuffed emotion while the Decepticon stands and approaches the humming bars.

"You love-struck fool," The Autobot hisses, but he does not resist the invisible pull between them. He approaches the bars as well, daring to lift his helm close as Starscream bows in answer.

Through the tight valley of the hot energy bars, the Autobot and Decepticon share a quick kiss, longing and regret a bitter poison that slips like cyanide down their capillaries.

"I told you to abandon this charade." Perceptor whispers huskily when they part.

Starscream presses his forehead against the Autobot's, "Never."

"Young idiot," The gray and red scientist snorts, "Do you really think sonnets of devotion and steel flowers will lure me into your arms?"

"I won't know unless I keep trying, won't I?"

Perceptor masks his gentle smile by focusing on the tight twist of his hand between the Decepticon's cuffed alabaster fingers, the Decepticon hanging onto him for dear spark and refusing to let the Autobot go until they hear the warning tread of heavy pedes as a sentry returns from scanning the adjacent halls.

"I'll find you." Starscream whispers as Perceptor's fingers slip away.

"You always say that," Perceptor steps away, having heard this promise many times before, "and yet every time, you must turn away and fly back to Megatron lest Prime get his hands upon you."

"I may surprise you...Very. Soon." Perceptor shivers at the unflinching look that follows him as he melts into the shadows of the hall, the Decepticon losing his gaze only when the Autobot slips around the opposite corner an astrosecond before the sentry steps into the hall of barred prison cells.

**K is for Kids**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Brute!"

"Imbecile!"

"Backstabber!"

"Ruffian!"

"Screamer!"

"Ground kisser!"

"_Airhead!!"_

"**Short stack!!"**

Perceptor moans and gently claps his hands over his pained audio receptors while the Decepticon SIC and Autobot Brawn rage with words and snarls. The scientist can only pray that either a Decepticon or Autobot scouting party will find the three mechs and dig them out of the caved-in mine before Starscream or Brawn test their mettle by trying to either throttling the other or begin a shooting gallery within the tight space.

**  
L is for Love**

**(G1 Universe)**

"Ch!!" Starscream grumps while yanking the smaller microscope into his arms, "I don't care for the words those dirty little organic creatures use to signify a bond! So stop stuttering and get over here before I decide to personally and show you how real mechs prove their devotion!"

**M is for Monster**

**(2009 Universe)**

"_All mighty Primus…m-may you grace me with your gaze…and deliver me from this evil…"_

Perceptor sprawls amongst the ragged, dripping remains of his fellow scientists, the small exploratory unit and shuttle sent out to the distant stars in search of other sources of energon and to study advancements in their gathering methods for the valuable sustaining solution for all Cybertronians.

No sooner had they landed upon a lone planet circling a bright ruby dwarf sun that they were under siege. The party of scientists caught unawares as the unit of aerial based Decepticons dove upon them like rabid beasts, their raking taloned feet and clawed hands rending the few armed bodyguards apart who had been paid substantially to protect the smaller defenseless scientists.

Starscream and his trine divided the limbs and pieces of the bodyguards amongst them, greedily savoring the sweet energon that flowed from the gushing wounds after so long in the cold arms of space without any source of fuel.

Only after the three Decepticons were done with the bodyguards was when they turned upon the scientists.

"_Stretch forth your hand, should this miserable hollow body prove worthy…"_

Thundercracker curved his large mandible around the throat and shoulder of Ivory, the small femme medic who squealed and thrashed before he severed her helm from her torso. Chip gurgles forth a waterfall of energon while Skywarp eviscerated the lean gold and black surveyor's abdomen.

Starscream cracks open their leader, Hardhead, with both hands, splitting him down the middle with the large Decepticon sups ravenously from the still twitching pieces.

The two waves of needless slaughter appeared to calm the three Decepticons enough to mildly appease their voracious hunger.

That is, the initial glut and session of gorging their fuel tanks gives the Decepticons a return of senses so as not to dismember the remaining scientists and surveyors who cowered in fear as if they look upon the avatars of Unicron incarnate.

"_Release me from the demons that howl and wail from the depths of the Pit."_

Starscream laps and coils his long glossa around the gore dripping talons of his hands, tattooed limbs soaked in energon while his brothers seize the remaining Autobot scientists who wail and pray to Primus for mercy. The large aerial mechs sinking their denta into the thick energon cables of necks and shoulders, but this time their processors' caution the large mechs to be temperate and keep their prey in one piece.

"And what are you doing all the way out here?" Starscream wonders while he pulls Perceptor towards him, the microscope literally frozen with fear. The Decepticon grins, traces his talons down the pale blue and red features, streaking the gray facial plates with cooling paint strokes of energon, "Poor thing. You're utterly petrified."

Perceptor clenches his denta together to prevent his words to Primus from spilling from his lips as the Decepticon carefully sinks his long fanged denta into his throat cables, the Autobot scientist praying for mercy and guidance amongst the wails of his brethren and the warm, energon soaked sand.

"_Amen."_

**  
N is for Never Again**

**(IDW Universe)**

"Say it."

"N-Never!"

"You say that every time," Starscream stretches above the scientist, slipping in between the Autobot's thighs, "and yet every time, you come back, begging for more."

"I-I'd rather fall onto my knees before Megatron b-before I beg for anything from you."

"Oh, you foolish creature," Perceptor's entire frame rocks backwards as Starscream lunges forward, and the Decepticon's cable spears the depths of the Autobot's valve, "I had made plans to be gentle this time, but now I'll make you regret your cheeky words!"

**  
O is for Opposition**

**(G1 Universe)**

"I still think--"

"No!"

Starscream huffs, "If you would simply **listen**…"

"No, I am not naming our sparkling by that designation simply because you wish to thumb your nose at Shockwave!"

"…fine," Starscream curls his arms around his partner's shoulders, not missing the chance to mumble one final time, "I still think Sunstorm would be a fine designation."

**  
P is for Pensive**

**(2009 Universe)**

"What do you see in him?" Sam looks up to the gentle scientist, the tall lean mech sitting alone near the edge of the Autobot base.

Perceptor gifts the young human with a brief, private smile, "I suppose you should ask Optimus the same thing about why he never lays the finishing blow on his brother." The Autobot turns back to watch the sunset, mesmerized by the hues of gold and umber that streaks the horizon and peaked range of mountains, "Devotion brings out strange actions in all species, Samuel. We'd throw ourselves over the body of our partner to shield him from harm, no matter how cruelly he would shove us away. Sometimes our love makes us the greatest fools…or the luckiest creatures in this galaxy."

**  
Q is for Question**

**(G2 Universe)**

"Where is he?" Perceptor pulls at the chains that tether him to the wall of his cell, "W-Where is Starscream?!"

Galvatron snorts with disgust at the mention of the traitor, "Ashes to ashes." The mad warlord smiles at the stunned, quiet look of comprehension, "I'm sure you would find some of him amongst the seams of the tiles in the main chamber."

"…n-…no.." Perceptor drops to his knees, the pinch and grind of the cuffs slips fresh beads of energon from the ring of torn cables upon his wrists, "…Starscream…?"

"The true question is…" Galvatron snakes his fingers around the Autobot's mandible, jerking the mech's head upward, dispassionately examining the plain features and dull blue optics, "What did that fool see in **you**? And what sparks such grief in your eyes at his demise?"

"Something you wouldn't understand." Perceptor whispers. Not caring that his words may spell his fate. His Spark wails in lost, the tattered bond shorn in two at the loss of his mate.

"…Perhaps not," Galvatron slides his gaze up and down the prisoner, one hand quests to find the latch and seal of the scientist's chassis, "But show me the proof of how ragged and broken you are, and mayhap I will begin to understand this feeling."

**  
R is for Recharge**

**(G1 Universe)**

Perceptor tries to wiggle for additional space, but his berth mate isn't remotely complacent.

Starscream grumbles and flops onto his side, one wing blanketed over the two Cybertronians. The Decepticon mutters in recharge, sprawled partially over the smaller Autobot.

Perceptor's optical sockets roll heavenward, wondering how the mech always managed to finagle and pin him during recharge without any recollection once coming online during the morning cycle.

**  
S is for Sparkling**

**(G1 Universe)**

Perceptor despises the knowing, inquisitive glances thrown his way whenever he is shuttled between his locked chambers and the medical ward. The Autobot prisoner constantly flanked by either Soundwave or Starscream's trine mates, the prisoner too valuable to risk near the other Decepticon soldiers who are too curious about the bead of life humming softly within his chassis ― most of the fools too daring for their own good ― and Soundwave and Thundercracker and Skywarp are ever vigilant in keeping the other Decepticon grunts from laying their hands on the prisoner to try their luck at breeding a new member for their army in Lord Megatron's honor.

A sparkling. A sparkling with a Decepticon sire….The first in the countless vorns since their War left Cybertron and fell upon the soil of this miserable organic planet.

The trip is always short between Perceptor's isolated chambers and the labs. Gently pushed into the room, he is immediately surrounded by the gestalt, Hook and Scrapper quickly usher the prisoner to the medical berth. Perceptor helped onto the berth, the additional weight of his growing sparkling making it slightly difficult to swing up onto the berth without assistance.

The Constructicons monitor their charge; attending to scans and readings as they focus on the sparkling's progress. The Decepticons mutter excitedly amongst themselves as they analyze the readouts, copying the results onto several data pads which will be delivered to Lord Megatron and his second and third in command.

They halt their long session of tests when Lord Megatron suddenly steps into their labs.

The green and purple gestalt mechs bow to their Lord and shuffle out of his path so that their master may appease his curiosity with the status of their Autobot 'guest'.

Perceptor shudders but tries to remain still and steady when the large silver mech palms his hand upon the microscope's chassis.

Megatron terrifies the prisoner with a proud, gleaming shark smile as the sparkling thrums beneath his palm.

"I am eager to witness what sort of sparkling you and my second in command will gift to my ranks." Lord Megatron pats the prisoner's shoulder and the Autobot nearly tumbles off the berth in fright at the Decepticon leader's abrupt gesture. Scavenger yelps and darts forward, clutching the prisoner's shoulders and propping Perceptor upright to prevent him from tumbling onto the floor.

"Now, now," Scavenger gently lays the creator back to lie flat upon the berth, "We mustn't get too excited. Lest we disturb the sparkling…"

Perceptor offlines his optical screens, computerized processor running in panicked circles while he fervently prays that this nightmare would end and he would wake up back on the _Ark_.

**  
T is for Turnabout**

**(IDW Universe 'All Hail Megatron')**

Starscream cursed and topples over, giving Blurr the scant inches of opportunity to escape from underneath the Seeker and his null ray.

"Thanks-Perceptor!" The blue Autobot winces onto his feet, back scorched by a small hole which hiccups a plume of acidic smoke. Quick to his feet, Blurr moves in a haze, racing to cover their brothers' backs at the edge of the city's water front.

Starscream lips curl in a fierce snarl, glaring over his shoulder at the sniper who had lain hidden during a majority of the battle.

"A coward hides amongst the shadows." The Decepticon hisses, meeting the cool blue gaze.

Perceptor raises the long scope of his weapon to the larger blue optical plate, peering down the length of his gun, "Better than a coward who shoots an unarmed Autobot in the back."

**  
U is for Ultimatum**

**(2007 Universe 'The Reign of Starscream')**

"Spare them." Perceptor is on his hands and knees, forehead upon the arched pede of the winged Decepticon leader, "I implore you, my Lord, for mercy. Please…" He beseeches the winged Lord to release his fellow Autobots from the trenches of the mines, many too weak to work, especially when the Decepticon guards beat them with their electrode sticks when they stumble and falter.

Starscream taps his claws in deep thought, leaning forward from the depths of his throne in order to hear the Autobot prisoner's supplication.

"If I should spare them," The new Decepticon Lord inquires, bent over his servant, one hand bowed over the smaller Autobot's neck as he drums his sharp talons upon the smooth blue and red plates, "What shall I receive in reparation?"

"..I..I…" Here the Autobot stumbles, caught by surprise, "I…do not know what my Lord would desire."

Starscream reaches down, and curls one claw under the soft dermal plates beneath the Autobot's chin.

"I think you know what I desire." The Decepticon Lord doesn't have the patience to beat around the bush like his little Autobot insists.

Perceptor shudders, but complies with the motion to rise onto his pedes, "If…if my Lord should require my…affection--"

"Oh, I think I shall require more than that." Starscream curls his other hand around the small of the Autobot's back, "now come here, Perceptor, and show me how badly you wish to salvage your little Autobot compatriots."

**  
V is for Victory**

**(Shattered Glass Universe)**

"Starscream!!" Perceptor stretches forward his hand, the Decepticon throwing colorful curses in the raging Autobot leader's direction as he reaches forward in rejoinder and welds his hand to the smaller Autobot's outstretched hand.

"_**Traitor!" **_The Prime bellows. Starscream narrowly yanks Perceptor up and into his arms, his thrusters and boosters firing and he sails upwards amongst the towers and sentry posts before the large Autobot fires his blaster, the laser blast barely grazes the Autobot scientist's shoulder and Starscream's wing.

"Hah!" Starscream shouts in triumph as the Prime's wild shots strike uselessly against the wide towers, the winged Decepticon twirling and darting amongst the maze as his thrusters guide the two mechs beyond the walls of the Autobot base, "Try shoving that blaster up your aft, Prime! Maybe you'll actually hit something worthwhile!" The Decepticon cackles while Perceptor gasps and desperately tries to hush the Decepticon's brazen boasts.

**  
W is for Wicked**

**(IDW Universe)**

Perceptor's words gurgle unintelligibly behind the metal plate over his mouth, wrists and forearms bound by stasis cuffs and looped around a thick pipe at the head of the berth. Thighs spread, knees pushed back until they arch halfway to his shoulders.

The Decepticon rims the glistening silver ring of the Autobot's valve, hands flexed and holding the mech down as Perceptor whines and fitfully shaves and throws his helm left and right in stubborn refusal.

"I won't unlock the cuffs until I can trust that you won't try to crack open my helm with another chair," Starscream's scarlet slanted optics shine with dark humor across the trembling valley of the mech's belly, "Pity I must muffle you, but I've grown tired of your pleas and deals while you try to bargain for the protection of your allies who are still sitting inside their claustrophobic, dank little cells."

"_MMMmmmphh!!" _Perceptor arches and twists, throat bobbing as the Decepticon sinks his glossa within the clenching well of his valve. The wet, slick glide of the Seeker's expert appendage stirring an unwanted moan of frustration and discomfort, spread thighs unconsciously shudder and try to arch and grind against the invader.

"Although…" Starscream speaks when his tongue slips back and darts in between his lips, the Seeker licking the inside of his mouth, pooling the flavor along hypersensitive neural sensors upon his glossa and lining the inside of his cheeks and throat, "Perhaps I'll remove the plate later and let you wail and scream all you like…if you play nice."

**  
X is for X Marks The Spot**

**(IDW Universe)**

Starscream hissed as the bleeding Spark of an Autobot tries to staunch the bleed of energon, the ragged edges of the wound stinging no matter how careful or gentle the microscope's hands try to swipe away the leaking fluids.

"Please do not move about." Perceptor is secretly proud of his cool detached voice and solid hands. Inside, his internals twist and rattle, the Autobot's processor screaming in terror at his proximity to such a dangerous and infamous Decepticon.

"It fragging _hurts_!" The Seeker snaps, wings arching sharply in discontent as he sits up partway, but just as suddenly drops back, the stab of agony from the gut wound forcing the Decepticon to continue to merely grumble and curse.

"Don't think that this will change things," Starscream growls, "I won't have the same mercy for _you_."

"I never expected otherwise." Perceptor admits.

"**PERCEPTOR!" **

The smaller Autobot twists around, Springer and the rest of the Wreckers race towards him, finally locating the scientist after losing him during the earlier skirmish that had cost the Decepticon precious time and a few too many injuries.

"Get away from him!" Springer shouts as he raises his gun.

Perceptor moves, whether to step aside or tries to intercede the triple-changer before he can fire, none of them are certain.

Before he can act in either direction, a white arm curls around his throat. Perceptor coughs at the pressure against his esophageal tube when yanked off his pedes, held as a shield against the Seeker.

"Just try it." Starscream swears, a null ray humming and aimed in the Wreckers' direction, "See whether you can hit me without going through your precious microscope first."

"You strutless coward!" Hot Rod curses, the vibrant red and gold soldier only held back by Kup's warning growl for the young mech to hold his position.

"Stay back!" Springer orders his unit while he lowers his gun by a fraction of an inch, "Starscream, if you hurt him--"

"Awwwww…" Starscream purrs, cruelly dragging his prisoner against his frame until Perceptor grimaces and releases a small sound of pain. The Decepticon coyly presses dry lips to the side of the smaller Autobot's helm, the gesture earns a dark look and grind of denta as Springer helplessly watches, "Poor Wrecker. You so badly want him to run into your arms safe and sound, hmm?"

Starscream snaps his null ray up, swinging the weapon in the direction of several Wreckers who instinctively take a step forward in aggression, "Not another step closer!" The Decepticon warns, his patience shortened by the streams of energon pooling beneath his pedes, the gaping wound mirrors his temper, spraying pops and bursts of static.

"Hold your positions!" Kup bellows and clocks Blurr across the back of his helm, instinctively knowing that the speedy blue mech is planning to take a personal risk and rush the Decepticon.

"…springer.." Perceptor chokes around the arm shoved tight underneath his chin, stumbling and unwillingly follows the Decepticon as Starscream yanks him backwards, backing away from the semi-circle of Wreckers while the Autobots patiently shadow the Decepticon and Autobot prisoner's every step.

**  
Y is for Yield**

**(2007 Universe 'The Reign of Starscream')**

"Yield to me." The Decepticon whispers imploringly against his back strut and nape.

Perceptor whines, fingers dragging grooves down the silver metal of the berth. Pinned horizontally along the long slab of the bed, the Decepticon's hips and thighs bump the Autobot's posterior with each pump and thrust. The taut cable grinds against the sensory nodes of his valve, pale lavender lubricant smoothing the pressurized length of the Decepticon's thick cord.

"Why do you persist in refusing me?"

"J-Just let me go." Perceptor wheedles, "I don't…don't know anything of use to you--"

Starscream lays his hands along the arched stretch of the Autobot's back strut and hips and guides the smaller mech to piston slowly against his cable, "Do you really think that I care about any data files on your fellow Autobots?"

"……" Perceptor digs his fingers and palms into the metal skin of the berth, trying in vain to disengage their locked frames and crawl away from the Decepticon that persists in caressing and invading him in every intimate and humiliating fashion.

"You'll never break away from me." Starscream swears against the heated, condensation dotted plates of the pinned Autobot's back and neck, "I'll break both your legs and lock you inside an iron gilded cage so that you'll never take flight."

**  
Z is for Zen**

**(G1 Universe)**

"You…you really mean it?" Perceptor can't believe what his audios have interpreted.

Starscream growls at the mech's disbelief, "I do have a shred of honor, no matter what your Autobot _friends _may say."

"B-But.." Perceptor stutters, gaze flickering to his Prime and the Autobot leader's second and third in command. The microscope's arms wound fiercely and loyally tight around his sparkling, the burbling, squealing winglet stretching little red arms and blue hands towards his Decepticon sire.

Optimus Prime lays a gentle, firm hand on the scientist's shoulder. Starscream snarls in warning, prepared to tear the Prime's hand off if he does not desist in touching the creator of his sparkling.

"Perceptor," The Prime peacefully mediates between the sire's indignation and creator's confusion, "Starscream denounced the Decepticon badge. He swears loyalty solely to his mate and sparkling."

"Saw it for myself," Jazz adds his input, "Megatron won't be bothering us for a while after taking a face full of null ray after he commanded Starscream to acquire both you and your winglet and bring you both back to Decepticon headquarters."

Perceptor curls his arms tighter around Razor; the sparkling curiously pats his creator's worried features, ruby optics peering up at Perceptor's grimace of worry.

"I do not trust Starscream entirely." Prowl raises his hand to intercede before Jazz can speak, "**But**…I believe him when he swore to protect both of you. He risked deactivation when he fled the _Nemesis, _and he barely made it here before the Coneheads and the rest of his trine tried to shoot him out of the sky."

"MMmrr?" Razor nuzzles his creator, peeking shyly through Perceptor's arms in the direction of Starscream.

The former Decepticon approaches and drops onto one knee before the seated Autobot scientist. Razor burbles and lavishes his sire with a sunny smile, happily gumming the knuckle of Starscream's forefinger.

"I won't abandon either of you." Starscream solemnly swears. "Whatever the past has held between us, I'm willing to make up for it. I don't want any regrets. Please…do not push me away from you and my sparkling."

"I…" Perceptor twiddles his fingers with shy embarrassment and ducks his helm when Starscream lays a cobalt hand upon his cheek, "…I'm willing to give you a second chance.." The microscope whispered.

Jazz grins slyly as Starscream leaps onto his pedes and manages to almost knock Perceptor out of his chair when the former Decepticon threw his arms around his mate's shoulders, Razor waving his arms up and down and babbling excitedly. The Prime quickly catching the creator and sire pair and their sparkling before they knock over the chair.

"Told you that there would be a happy ending," Jazz purr's in his bondmate's audio, tracing the edge of his finger down the edge of Prow's doorwing. The SIC shivers at the confident stroke, "Now…..how about we have that talk about our sparkling that I know has been keeping you up at night with worry about how to tell me?"

Prowl's pole-axed expression warns Optimus to comm. for Ratchet's assistance before his SIC keels over at the notion of another sparkling, especially while Jazz murmurs into the SIC's audio while stroking Prowl's chassis and abdominal plates, the Autobot leader fairly certain of the identity of the carrier of the bonded pair's future sparkling.


End file.
